Bad Wolf Investigations
by Selene47
Summary: Sequel to The Valiant Child. Rose is drawn 10,000 years into the future to battle an ancient evil, as the power of the Bad Wolf threatens to consume her. Post Doomsday.
1. Chapter 1

**The first chapter of my new Rose fanfic. I know I said I was gonna wait before starting another, but this brilliant idea came to me in a dream, so it must have been a sign, right? Anyway, this is just the introduction, so it will get more interesting and will make more sense as it goes along. Honest.  
Doctor Who (c) BBC.**

* * *

Chapter 1:

Lisa Knight picked her way across the rubble and debris of the ruined city. It was night, and pitch black. The toxins clouding the planet's atmosphere blocked even the light of the stars – or was that the great mother-ship, hovering above her like a bloated spider over its prey? The lamp on her helmet cast a faint glow, which drew out eerie shapes and ominous shadows from the piles of broken buildings all around her – outside the circle, the world plunged into darkness. She would have used the spare flashlight kept in one of the radiation suit's large pockets if she weren't afraid she would draw unwanted attention to herself.

Lisa stepped carefully around a chunk of stone that used to belong to a church, if the crumbling, dilapidated spire was anything to go by. It still amazed her that after all this time religion had survived. It was as if when all else failed, people relied on belief to solve their problems. Lisa on the other hand, had long since discarded her God, thinking that nobody could look down of the trials of their community and do nothing.

A sudden noise in the darkness made her spin round, heart hammering in her throat. Fingers encased in thick, radiation-proof gloves gripped the pistol at her hip, but there was no sign of anything moving in the shadows. Breathing out heavily, Lisa reluctantly let go of the weapon, turned back round and kept walking.

"Keep it together, woman!" she hissed to herself. "You're twenty-three, for God's sake! Use your common sense!" Taking deep, calming breaths, she took her own advice. Nothing could creep up on her in this place without making a considerable amount of noise, Lisa reasoned, and she was armed with cat-like reflexes and a gun that fired 3,000-volt bolts of electricity.

Even so, cautionary tales and children's stories mingled in her head: "Stay away from the ruins or the Grizzlies'll getcha," sang her brother. They ran around in her memory, playing one of their childish games, at the time when adults dealt with those sorts of problems and stories were just stories. "Beware the Grizzly!"

For the twentieth time in as many minutes, Lisa wondered just what she was doing. Nobody knew she was down here, miles below the safety of the ship, looking for fairy-tales. It was suicide to go blundering about in the dark, where she could fall and break her leg, or be cornered by the Grizzlies. Yet that nagging suspicion wouldn't go away; that there was something not right about all of this, something management wasn't telling them, and the answer was somehow hidden in the ruins of the city they had been sent to investigate.

One of her boot-clad feet knocked against a stone, and she jumped as it flew out of range of her lamp. She tensed, waiting for it to land, hoping it wouldn't make too much noise…but no sound came. Curious, Lisa shuffled forwards, and a few steps later discovered the reason. She had to jerk to a halt as the ground in front of her suddenly dropped away. Scrambling backwards, Lisa almost fell, then collected herself and edged back to the edge of the hole. Gazing down nervously, she saw only the blackness of a deep pit, and the same if she cast the light to either side. Whatever she was looking for, it seemed she was looking in the wrong place.

With the heavy sigh of someone who thought that retracing her steps and starting again would be a waste of time, Lisa turned around to do just that. A thin wire trailed away from her into the darkness; the end of it was attached to a yo-yo like contraption on her belt. Wearily, Lisa pressed the retract button and set off, the lifeline that lead back to the ship threading back into her belt as she went. However, she had only taken a few steps into the oppressive darkness when a sixth sense made her pause and examine the hole again. There was something strange about it; and after a few moments of close scrutiny, it clicked. Whereas everything else in the ruins was…well…ruined, the edge of the pit was smooth, as if it had been cut intentionally. Lisa sank to her knees, even her fear forgotten, and ran her fingers over the surgically smooth edge in puzzlement. She concentrated, her breathing the only noise in the weighty silence, and discovered she could feel a slight vibration under her fingertips that sent a deep hum reverberating through her. There was something at the bottom of this pit – something bit and powerful, and maybe, just maybe, it was what she was looking for.

Suddenly exhilarated, Lisa rose to her feet; one hand strayed to the lifeline on her belt. A finger traced the retract button, then drifted to the next one – release. She pressed down, and the yo-yo sprang free to drop useless on the ground. This was the procedure they were taught only to use in an emergency – if you believed your life was in jeopardy, then releasing your lifeline would lead a rescue team directly to your last location. That done, she pulled off her gloves and shoved them in another pocket, preparing to climb down.

Before she could, however, the rumbling increased. It responded to her, as if she had passed some sort of test, until she could hear as well as feel it. The ground began to shake, rattling Lisa's bones and clicking her teeth together. Stepping back so she wouldn't fall in by mistake, Lisa drew the weapon she had no actual experience of using and held it in both hands. The fear had returned, clogging thickly in her throat. She swallowed dryly, and then, for reasons unknown, pointed the gun into the pit.

A few seconds later, a target appeared. A speck of bright blue light blinked on in the depths, and then another. Lisa hesitated, wondering whether or not to fire. After all, she had no idea if this was an enemy – it didn't look threatening, and wasn't trying to attack…

Before she had made up her mind, another light flickered into existence beside the others, and then another. Lisa watched with mounting panic as more and more appeared, until there were too many to count. Lisa jerked the gun from one to another as they continued to multiply. The gun was slippery with sweat in her bare hands.

"If you're going to fire, do it now!" she snapped at herself, and then squeezed the trigger. The shot rang through the night, but there was no sign of impact. She didn't even hear the electric bolt hit the bottom. The lights were breeding faster now, and they didn't look friendly any more. They also looked to be getting closer, bigger, brighter.

Lisa panicked. No amount of military training could have prepared her for what happened next. The gun slid from her hands as she threw both arms across her face in a futile attempt to protect herself, and a scream that no one heard split the night.


	2. Chapter 2

** Doctor Who (c) BBC.  
**

* * *

Chapter 2:

_Gold light swirled within Rose Tyler, burning behind once-brown eyes, straining to be free. She raised an arm to release it, pointing at the nearest Dalek, which loomed in front of her threateningly. Rose would have been scared; but she was not Rose, was not even human. Power drifted effortlessly from her fingertips, and the Dalek was gone – every particle drifted into gold vapour and dissolved._

_"Everything must come to dust," said the thing that was once Rose. The power rushed gold in her veins, and with it came fearless certainty. "All things."_

_Three more Daleks followed the first as she gestured elegantly, and all that was left was the trace of dust shimmering in the air. Rose buzzed with the knowledge that she was invincible; nothing could stop her, nothing was safe. She was more than human – so much more. She was a god. She was the Bad Wolf._

_"Everything dies." She opened her arms and let the power flow. It spread from her across the Dalek fleet, destroying everything in its path. Half a million Daleks were swept away with the wind, but she did not stop. Rose heard the Emperor roar before he melted into the air, and his rage was sustenance._

_However, the more power she released, the more built up inside her. Rose could feel the pain and pressure growing behind her eyes, every atom in her body screamed with it. Images flashed through her head, and she could see everything - all that is, all that was, all that ever could be. She saw the end of all things, the collapse of the galaxies, the very last moments of the universe. But all that shone in her eyes was light._

_"The Time War ends."_

Rose woke with a jolt and stared around, only half-conscious, expecting to see the weight of the Daleks bearing down on her. One hand even fumbled in her pocket for the sonic screwdriver before she remembered where she was - in the office. Rose slowly pushed her shoulder-length blonde hair out of her face and looked around. She was sitting at her desk; her PC monitor and keyboard sat in front of her, as well as piles of papers, a half-empty mug of tea, a pot filled with pens and pencils, and a lot of other junk she hadn't gotten around to tidying up. She glanced at her watch. It was eight-thirty in the morning.

"What?" she muttered, before remembering. She had come into work early, because the old recurring Bad Wolf nightmare had woken her up – yet another reminder of the life she had left behind. It seemed she had fallen asleep at her desk. Trying to wake herself up, Rose grabbed the mug and took a large gulp of tea, then regretted it. It was stone cold. She spat the tea back, spluttering, shoved her chair back and stomped into the kitchen to make some more.

The office was cosy – or that was the word they used, anyway. Rose shared her office with Sarah Jane, and there was just enough space for two computer desks, a shelving unit, and two filing cabinets. They had disagreed on the colour scheme, but eventually decided on a dark blue carpet and pale blue walls, nice and simple. A window looked out over the street and grey, rain-hazed sky. There were four doors; one led out into the building they shared with a few other small businesses, and the others were to the kitchen, bathroom, and Mickey's office, which was even smaller than theirs. He had a desk and chair, and then crammed into the remaining space a number of gizmos, devices and other contraptions, which he said would "revolutionise the PI business", but which Rose had yet to see anywhere near finished.

Private Investigators - that was what they were to the outside world. It even said it on the door's brass plaque: Bad Wolf Investigations, and their names, but under the surface – to anyone who looked closer and dug deeper – they were so much more. They dealt with the things that Torchwood, high up in Canary Wharf, didn't see, or were too busy to dirty their hands with. Granted, in the eighteen months Bad Wolf had been around, they had only had half a dozen clients, and a few of those had been the usual "my husband/wife is having an affair" type deal. The others were simple infestation jobs – get in, wave the sonic screwdriver around until the alien knew you meant business, and then pack it off to whatever planet it came from. But Rose still felt great to be out there doing something. She had worked for Torchwood for a few months, and never even left the building. Now she was doing something that really mattered.

Rose had just settled back in her chair with a fresh tea, and begun flicking through a file on the latest client, when the door opened and Mickey strolled in.

Being his own boss suited the 24-year old Londoner. He was more confident, and seemed to have found his calling in electronics, though he was still a bit of a jack-the-lad. Rose would never have guessed that he would ever be more interested in a circuit board than saying good morning to her; but there he was, fiddling away with a screwdriver, the glasses he had started wearing pushed into his short black hair.

"All right, Mickey? You're up early."

He looked up and grinned at her. "Wanted to get this finished off. It's the central control circuit for the Sneak-Speaker."

Rose faked a groan. "You still at that? Thought you gave it up weeks ago."

"Are you kidding? This is gonna -"

"Revolutionise the PI business, I know." Rose teased, nudging him with her foot. They'd been over the same topic every day since he brought up the Sneak-Speaker – a tiny microphone and camera system. Not only was it small and easy to hide, it recorded sound and took high-quality snapshots via remote control. It had taken Mickey weeks to smuggle the necessary equipment out of Torchwood, and it would have been impossible without Jake, their so-called "inside man". Rose thought he was making this whole thing far too cloak and dagger – she was sure her father would have loaned him a bit of equipment if he'd just asked.

Mickey pretended to huff indignantly. "Just you wait. Once those losers up at _Bowland and Blakes_ get a whiff of this, the money'll roll in."

Rose rolled her eyes, pretending to be bored. Actually, she thought the invention was fantastic – if it worked, if it wasn't spotted, if the photos were good enough. She just didn't want to get Mickey's hopes up about something involving so many "ifs". She decided to change the subject. "Is Sarah here yet?"

Mickey gazed at her seriously, glanced around, then bent down and looked under Sarah Jane's desk. "Can't see her," he said. "You'd better check in the filing cabinet."

"Shut up!" Rose laughed. "You know what I meant."

Mickey jumped back to his feet and bounced energetically on his toes. He knocked his thin-rimmed glasses back onto his nose with a flick of a finger and peered at her through them. "Her car's not here. Come on Rose, it's not even 9 yet."

"Yeah, I know." Rose couldn't help feeling disappointed – and not just because she wanted to see her other best friend. Sarah was supposed to be dropping by Torchwood this morning, for reasons she hadn't told them, and Rose was impatient to get the details.

Right on cue, they heard a car pull up outside, and both of them leapt to the window. Sure enough, Sarah Jane's pale green Nissan Figaro was sliding to a halt in its usual space. They watched Sarah Jane get out, slam the car door, and enter the building, all far too slowly. It took her a few minutes to climb the two flights of stairs, but finally she was there, carrying the post and her bag and trying not to drop either. Her coat was covered with a thin layer of rain.

"What is it? What did they want?" asked Rose, as soon as the door opened. Sarah hesitated before answering, taking time to put the pile of letters on her desk and hang up her coat. She smiled a greeting at Mickey, who grinned back. He was leaning against the wall beside the filing cabinet, in the pretence of examining the tiny speaker's circuitry – but Rose knew he was just as interested as she was. Finally, Sarah seemed to gather her thoughts, and tried to explain.

"Torchwood have found something," she began. "I can't exactly explain it – I don't fully understand it myself, but it's…it's incredible."

Rose shared a puzzled glance with Mickey. "I don't understand. What is it?"

"It's some sort of pod or capsule, maybe it's a spaceship." Sarah Jane replied. "The truth is Torchwood can't determine what it is which means its something way beyond anything we – the human race - have ever seen before. The technology inside the thing is just…incredible." she repeated, lost for words. "The trouble is, they can't test it to see what it is because, well, it doesn't work."

"It's broken?" piped up Mickey, curiosity ignited.

"Well, there's a signal, but it's very faint. They were trying to boost it when I arrived, but I think they're scared of what this thing could do. It could be a weapon, or a bomb…" Sarah took a deep breath, then took a padded envelope from the inside pocket of her fitted leather jacket. "Even this didn't wake it up."

She tossed the package to Rose, who caught it deftly and upended it. A familiar pen-shaped object fell into her palm. Rose's gaze snapped back to Sarah.

"I lent this to you, not Torchwood. They had no right -"

"I gave them the right. The reason I borrowed it was to hand it to Torchwood." Rose opened her mouth angrily, eyes flashing gold, but Sarah ploughed ahead. "You refused to go back, I had no choice! Rose, this thing isn't deadlocked, so the sonic screwdriver should have worked. But it didn't."

"Are you sure it was on the right setting?" Rose growled, still angry, but under control. Her eyes faded back to brown.

"Of course." Sarah kept her voice level, but the others could see she was hiding her irritation.

"I only installed those updates last week – it was working fine then." Mickey cut in hurriedly. Rose's eyes always turned gold when she was angry, and he had to admit that it scared him.

Rose turned the screwdriver over in her hands, inspecting it. It wasn't really a screwdriver, it was just called that because…well, she didn't know why. It was one of the many things she'd never thought to ask. It was a slim metal tube, with a light at one end that used to be blue, like the original, but had suddenly and inexplicably turned gold soon after coming into Rose's possession, to everyone's confusion. It had been built by Torchwood, who had copied it from the one in the Doctor's pocket – they did a full-body scan of everyone who entered the building, including a complete analysis of whatever electrical equipment the visitor had on them at the time. Apparently, it would have been stranger for them not to make a copy.

Just before they finished it, however, the computer system had suffered an unexplained meltdown, destroying every file relating to the Doctor or his sonic screwdriver. As a result of this, Torchwood was unable to make any more. Rose's screwdriver also didn't work quite as well as the original, but was fine for everyday uses – like when she forgot her keys, needed entry to somewhere she wasn't supposed to be, or just fancied showing off. But, inferior to the Doctor's as it was, there wasn't much it failed to unlock, and the fact that it had meant trouble.

"So, what does this mean?" asked Mickey, as Rose slid her trusty gadget into a jacket pocket.

"It means," she replied grimly, "that we're going back to Torchwood."


	3. Chapter 3

**Doctor Who (c) BBC.**

* * *

Chapter 3:

Rose stepped through the glass doors into Torchwood's lobby, Mickey and Sarah Jane at her side. It was exactly as she remembered it. An innocent reception desk and an even more innocent receptionist, who was tapping away at her keyboard, various boring paintings, white walls, pale grey carpet; nothing to suggest that the most incredible things happened beneath the watchful eyes of the general public. Half a dozen employees passed as they stood, indecisively. None of them glanced in her direction, but nevertheless, Rose felt a sense of foreboding settle on her shoulders as the three of them crossed to the desk.

"Can I help you?" asked the girl sitting behind it, smiling. Rose didn't recognise her - she must have started after the mass quit. The name badge pinned to her shirt read _Natalie_.

"Yeah." Rose rested her elbows on the counter self-consciously, sure that everyone must recognise them. "We're here to see, um, Pete Tyler."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"I'm his daughter. He's expecting me."

"One moment, please." Natalie reached for the phone sitting next to her on the desk and pressed a button. She spoke into the handset for a few minutes, then replaced it and smiled, more broadly now.

"Go right up, Miss Tyler. He's in his office."

Rose thanked her and headed for the elevator, and a few minutes later was knocking on her father's door.

"Come in!" he called, and Rose opened the door.

"Ah, you made it!" Pete was sitting behind his desk, dressed his usual dark suit and white shirt, though his tie was lopsided and he looked decidedly crumpled. His short ginger hair was sticking up, as if he'd spent a lot of time running his hands through it. He looked tired, which wasn't surprising, considering there was a new little Tyler in the house (the tales her mother bombarded her with whenever she dropped by was enough to make her glad she'd moved out, though around Rose, baby Jack was an angel).

Shortly before she quit Torchwood, Pete had given her his first lecture as a father. It had been all about responsibility, the consequences of her actions, how stupid she was to put herself in danger, etc. etc. It was very effective, for a novice – the memory still made her squirm – but Rose was never one to hold a grudge, and it didn't take long before they were back on speaking terms.

"Hi, Dad." Rose moved forward to hug him. "How'v you been?"

"Oh, you know. Same old same old." he pretended to grimace, then laughed and shook hands with Mickey and Sarah Jane. "I'm glad you could come. This thing is really causing us concern. If you could just take a look, it would really help us out…"

"Lead the way."

They were keeping the item in the same room as Parallel Torchwood had kept the Void Sphere, so it was immediately familiar to Mickey and Rose. The thing itself was set in the middle of the large room, surrounded by people in lab coats, who were making notes on charts or notebooks and creating a general air of busyness and knowing what they were doing. Rose saw through the act at once; nobody here really knew what to do.

They moved towards the object, the scientists falling back to give them room. It was a cylindrical pod, about seven feet in height and two across, just big enough for the average adult to stand in comfortably. The body was made of aluminium or something similar, except for the door, which was glass, and slid aside to allow people access. The others stopped a few feet away, but Rose went right up to it and put a hand on the casing, trying to get a feel for it.

"Where did it come from?"

Pete shrugged, frowning. "It just showed up. One day, everyone came to work, and it was here. We can't move or activate it." He joined Rose in front of the machine, and slid the door aside.

"Can we…" Rose gestured at the interior.

"Be my guest." Pete took a step back to let Mickey and Sarah Jane past. The three of them crowded round the entrance and stared inside. The rest of the pod was empty, but there was what looked like a metal case for a control panel, on the inside of the glass door. Rose shut the door almost completely, then squeezed an arm inside to pull at it, but it wouldn't come free.

"What do you think?" Rose addressed Mickey.

"Sonic screwdriver?"

"It didn't work before," Sarah reminded them.

"I wasn't using it before," said Rose. She put a foot inside the capsule and nothing happened, so she heaved the rest of herself inside and slid the door closed.

"What are you doing?" The glass muffled Pete's voice, but he sounded worried.

"Don't worry," Rose took the sonic screwdriver out of her pocket and gave the screwdriver an experimental buzz, to check it worked. It seemed fine so she pointed it at the metal cover. Nothing happened.

"Huh," Rose looked hard at the gold light on the screwdriver's tip.

"I told you." Sarah Jane said, to Rose's annoyance. "It won't work."

"It should work," Rose growled, trying once more to wrench the case free by sheer force.

"That won't do anything," Pete sighed.

"I know!" she let go of the metal and slumped against the back wall. She didn't know what else to try.

_What would the Doctor do?_ Rose asked herself. If the Doctor was here, her would know how to fix it, he always did. He would spout a lot of science, then go "Of course! It's the seventh law of Blognar!" or something, and the problem would be solved. Rose's eyes prickled with tears.

"We'll sort it out, don't worry, love." said Pete sympathetically, sliding the door open. "It's OK." He reached out, and Rose bristled.

"It is _not_ OK!" she snapped, lashing his hand away. "This should work!" She raised the sonic screwdriver, about to smash it against the door, but stopped herself, breathing hard, trying to calm down.

"Easy, love." Pete held up his hands. "I'm only trying to help."

"I know. I'm sorry." Rose didn't know what was wrong with her. She never used to get so angry this quickly. She had been proud of her easy-going nature. But lately it was as if there was a monster inside her, making her blood boil. Then she suddenly realised that her hand was hot "Wait a minute…"

Rose held up the fist holding the sonic screwdriver. The gold light was glowing brighter now, so bright they had to shield their eyes to look at it.

"What…?" Pete began, then looked back to Rose. She had her eyes shut, squeezed tight as if they were hurting her. "Rose, what's wrong?"

Rose opened her eyes, and if the screwdriver had been bright, then the gold light that swirled in her eyes was dazzling. All three of them staggered backwards, averting their faces. Without Rose moving, the door suddenly slammed shut.

"I am the Bad Wolf," she whispered. "There is nothing I can't do." She raised the sonic screwdriver, pointed it at the metal panel.

"I bring life!"

There was a blinding flash of gold light. It spun inside the pod, around Rose, raised a wind that whipped up papers and dust and flung them around the room. Knocked flat by the gale, Mickey threw an arm across his face, struggling to get up. The whole building seemed to shudder, and then was still. The wind dropped as suddenly as it had appeared. The capsule blazed with gold light for a few more seconds, before it flashed once more and went out.

Mickey jumped to his feet ahead of Pete and Sarah Jane, and stared at the space where the pod had been. His heart was sinking and cold fear took its place. Just to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks, he blinked hard, but the same sight greeted him when his eyes opened. It wasn't a trick, he wasn't imagining it; the cylinder had vanished.

Rose was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Doctor Who (c) BBC.  
Just a quickie, because I wanted to have something up before I went on holiday.**

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Chapter 4:

In the far distant future, in the dark corner of a dusty storeroom, a golden light blazed into existence and glowed brighter and brighter. Gently at first, but them with more and more force, a wind sprang up, knocking some of the lighter boxes onto the floor and sending an unearthly howling around the room. A few seconds later, as quickly as it had begun, the chaos ceased, and something new had appeared.

Rose Tyler stepped cautiously out of the pod and slid the door shut, using a hand to steady herself on a nearby pile of boxes. She took a few deep breaths to calm her dizziness.

"OK, that was weird." she muttered, when her head had cleared.

"You're telling me!" a reply drifted out of the darkness. Rose nearly fell over in shock.

"Who's there?" she peered into the darkness. The sonic screwdriver was still in her hand, and she quickly raised it. A circle of gold light surrounded her. Someone's face sprang sharply into view a foot away; Rose got the impression of a boy a bit younger than herself, with short curly hair. Then he must have hit a switch, because the light overhead flickered on.

Dazzled, Rose flung an arm over her eyes, then dropped it in case the boy was preparing to attack. Luckily, he was just staring at her with his mouth open. He looked about 18, and was wearing a white lab coat over a white T-shirt, canvas sneakers, and baggy cotton trousers the same pale blue as his slightly vacant eyes. Apparently lost for words, he pushed a hand through his curly blonde hair, lowered his arm, and then repeated the motion.

"Oh my God," he said at last. Rose decided to get the ball rolling.

"Where am I?" she asked. The boy stared at her, mouth opening and closing dumbly. Rose looked at her watch, a flashy digital contraption that Mickey had modified for her 21st. It was still 9:45:57 on Wednesday, August 1st, 2007.

"Ok, still 2007." she noted, then addressed the boy. "So, where am I? What is this place?"

Slowly, her words seemed to sink in.

"2007? What are you talking about?"

Rose re-checked her watch. It was still on quarter to ten, but the second counter hadn't moved. "My watch must have stopped."

"Took you a while to notice!" said the stranger shrilly. He still had the same shell-shocked expression.

"What's wrong?"

"You got here in that thing?" he pointed to the pod she had arrived in. "You're from 2007? Seriously?"

"Yeah…" Rose felt a sinking sensation, "Why?" she added nervously.

"It worked!" in his sudden excitement, the boy began pacing up and down. "She did it!"

"Who did what?" asked Rose, and then, with some trepidation, "What year is it?"

"It's the year 12,000."

Rose almost stopped breathing. "I travelled in time?" she whispered. The sinking sensation increased; it felt as if her heart was at knee-level.

"It's OK!" the lad saw her shocked expression and jumped to the rescue. He grabbed her shoulders. "It's OK! It was designed for more than one trip, you can get back!"

Rose nodded slowly, head buzzing. She had travelled in _time_! A window of possibility opened before her.

"I'm Sam, by the way." said her new friend, which jolted Rose back into reality. "Sam Knight."

Something he'd said earlier clunked into place inside Rose's head. "Designed?" she mumbled, giving her head a shake to wake up. "By who?"

"Wait a second." Sam let go of her, to Rose's relief, and began digging through his pockets, finally producing a crumpled wad of paper. He hastily unfolded it and pushed it into her hands. On it was a rough but detailed sketch of the capsule, surrounded by scribbled equations and calculations.

"What…did you draw this?"

Sam shook his head. "My sister. She was the brains in the family. She's been trying to build a time machine for years…this means she will!"

"Well, where is she?" Rose looked around eagerly, as if this woman was going to step into view at any moment.

"She's not here…" Sam's face fell. "She disappeared three weeks ago."

"Any idea where she went?"

"She didn't go anywhere. She's where everyone else is, everyone who's disappeared. She's been taken somewhere." his shoulders slumped. "But I have no idea where. It's hopeless."

Rose was instantly filled with a mixture of fear and excitement. It was like slipping into an old but comfortable coat, and she welcomed it with relish.

"No it isn't," she said confidently. "'Cause now you've got me."

Sam looked at her incredulously. "You're not going to leave? You're going to _help_?"

"Of course."

"But…why?"

"It's…what I do. 'Help' is my middle name."

"Great!" he beamed; the fact that a stranger who appeared from nowhere was going to help seemed to lift his spirits enormously. "So…what's your first name?"

"It's Rose. Rose Tyler. Defender of the earth." she grinned back, delving into her own pocket. "Here's my card."


	5. Chapter 5

**A Mickey chapter. I love Mickety-Mick-Mick-Mickey!**

**Doctor Who (c) BBC.  
**

* * *

Chapter 5:

"Rose! ROSE!" Mickey yelled, but it was no use. His voice couldn't bring her back; Rose was lost, Rose was gone.

"Gone," he repeated in a daze, head spinning. He turned to Pete, who was standing motionless, staring dumbly at the space where his daughter had been. Their eyes met, but neither knew what to say. Mickey opened his mouth, and closed it again. Sarah Jane came to her senses first; she dispersed the handful of scientists – there was nothing they could do – and then put a hand on Pete's arm.

"Pete?" she said softly, glancing at Mickey for help, but he was too shaken to move. "Pete, are you OK?"

Rose's father gave a short, barking laugh, distractedly running a hand through his cropped hair. "She…I thought…"

"Pete, you can't blame yourself. It's not your fault."

"Whose fault is it then?" Mickey found his voice. The way Pete looked at him made him feel sick, but he couldn't stop. "He brought us here. It was his idea."

"Mickey, it was her choice. She was reckless –"

"No she wasn't!" Mickey shouted. Rage bubbled inside his chest, hot and tight. "She had doubts coming here from the beginning, because she knew Torchwood was evil! She was brave, and beautiful, and your stupid Torchwood killed her!"

Leaving Sarah and Pete staring after him with their mouths open, Mickey sprinted from the room. The lift doors opened just as he reached them; he cannoned inside and slapped the button for the ground floor, shoving two lab-coated people waiting for the lift out of his way. They stared stupidly after him, one of them starting to speak, before the lift doors closed between them. Mickey was too angry to care. As far as he was concerned, anyone stupid enough to work for Torchwood deserved everything they got.

The lift started its descent, taking far too long. That irritating music written specifically to annoy people riding in lifts tinkled in the background, driving him mad. He punched the ground floor button again, but of course the box didn't move any faster. Mickey felt the anger rising inside him, threatening to spill. The lift walls closed in; he abruptly realised how much the elevator resembled the capsule that had evaporated Rose, and furious despair washed over him. He hit the button again, and again, and then suddenly he was thrashing about, fists hammering every inch of the cubicle, and all the while grunting, panting sobs were ripping from his throat.

When the lift doors opened onto the floor a few minutes later, Mickey was facing the back wall, leaning heavily on it, tears streaming down his face. A group of people stared down at him in interest and faint surprise. Not one of them asked what was wrong.

He managed to pull himself together long enough to reach Sarah Jane's Figaro. Slamming the car through the gears, he tore from the car park, angrily brushing his tears away even as fresh ones leaked out to replace them.

_Gone, gone, gone_. The words echoed round and round in his head, as regular as a ticking clock. He found himself beating out the rhythm on the steering wheel with one hand. _Gone, gone, gone._

He had driven for ten minutes without really noticing where he was going; he just wanted to get as far away from Canary Wharf as possible. It was only when he saw the building looming in front of him that he realised he was heading straight for the Tylers' house.

Jackie answered the door, balancing Jack on one hip and a bottle in the other hand. Jack was a beautiful baby; he had his father's nose, mother's smile, and the same dark eyes as Rose. He gazed wide-eyed at Mickey, who was too distraught even to look back, burdened with the reality that the sister he hardly knew was dead.

Jackie waved him inside. The telephone was wedged between her ear and shoulder, and she was too busy nattering to notice Mickey's expression.

"Ooh, yeah, I heard. You're kidding! Uh-huh? No way!" she was saying into the phone. "Yeah, he's a real terror sometimes, go right through Mickey love, yeah, well, that's what I told her. Wipe your feet. Well I told her, if she really wants to get pregnant, she has to know what she's getting into. Oh, Mickey love…" she had caught sight of his face for the first time. "Whatever's the matter? Karen, I've got to go, yeah, 'bye, I'll call you back…"

She put her arm around Mickey and ushered him into the kitchen. Mickey was too overwhelmed to notice as Jackie pushed him into one of the chairs around the kitchen table and shoved a mug of hot tea into his hand.

"Gone, gone, gone," he kept mumbling, oblivious. Jackie put Jack in his highchair and sat opposite Mickey, taking his free hand.

"What's happened, sweetheart?" she said gently. "You can tell me."

"I can't." Mickey said distantly. He felt as if he were floating above the table, watching them both. He put down the mug and pushed it away, feeling nauseous. "I…" he trailed off. He had never meant to come here, never wanted to be the bearer of bad news. But now he felt he had an obligation. Just as he was steeling himself to tell her, the mobile phone she had left on the table began to ring.

"Oh, stupid thing. Mickey, do you mind…?"

"Don't answer it." He snatched the phone from her hands and switched it off, knowing who was on the other end. Jackie was surprised at the malice in his voice.

"Mickey," she said softly, "what's going on?"

"Rose." the part of Mickey's brain that was still functioning thought he should start small. Her name was almost too painful to say, but it was enough.

"What happened?" Jackie's grip tightened on his hand. Her voice was surprisingly steady. "Mickey, tell me what happened."

Shakily, Mickey relayed what he had seen; how Rose had looked like a terrible angel, surrounded by all that light; what her last words had been. Jackie was silent for a long tine. Mickey tensed, expecting her to burst into tears or lash out like he had, but she didn't move. Her eyes stayed fixed on their clasped hands, and after a few minutes Mickey let his shoulders relax.

"Jackie?" he said softly. She didn't seem to hear him. The silence stretched on.

"Well, that proves it," Jackie said at last, when Mickey was almost ready to explode. "She's alive." Mickey stared at her. He couldn't believe what he was hearing – surely everything he had said proved exactly the opposite?

"Jackie…" Mickey began, pityingly. She had lost it. Months, years, of worrying about her daughter, and now the worst had happened she couldn't cope. "I saw the whole thing. It's…she's gone. Dead." The words felt sour in his mouth. Mickey leaned forwards, forcing his friend to meet his eyes.

"Jackie, there's no way she survived. She was burned up. Totally fried…" Mickey suddenly realised what he was saying, who he was saying it about. He had to swallowed hard to stop the bile rising in his throat.

"Don't look at me like that." Jackie snapped suddenly. "I'm not crazy, I'm not delusional. Remember the last time she did this, went away…Mickey, she came back. Just think about it."

Mickey did, and suddenly realised exactly what she meant. Rose's last words, "I bring life," were the same words he had heard over and over, every night for the past few weeks.

He had woken up to go to the toilet one night, about three weeks ago. The apartment was smaller - more homey – than the mansion had been, and he had to pass Rose's room to reach the bathroom. As he padded past, shivering slightly in the chill air because he hadn't thought he'd need more than pyjama bottoms, he heard Rose calling in her sleep, and pushed the door open gently. She was crunched up in the bed, clutching the duvet with white knuckles. A faint yellow glow trickled through her eyelids, illuminating the beads of sweat that stood out on her forehead, and Mickey was afraid to wake her, not entirely sure it would be Rose who he found.

She had been muttering through gritted teeth, half-sobbing, half choked with anger. And one of the sentences he could make out was…I bring life. He woke himself every night after that, to check up on her, and every night it had been the same dream, the same words.

"It's not exactly a nightmare," she had tried to explain, when he plucked up the courage to ask her about it. "It's more like a memory."

"Whose memory, though? Yours?"

"Yeah," she had replied, and then said no more about it. Mickey, relieved she had told him that much, hadn't pressed her, so he never got the rest of the story. It wasn't until now that he took in what she was talking about.

"Bad Wolf." he told Jackie. They stared at one another, she scared but hopeful, he tearful yet suddenly defiant.

"I told you," Jackie said. Mickey nodded in wonder.

"She's not dead," he whispered. "She's gone somewhere. She's alive. And we can bring her back."


	6. Chapter 6

**Doctor Who (c) BBC.**  
**Sorry it took me so long to update! I've been really busy, and this chapter was giving me trouble... :\**

* * *

Chapter 6:

Ten thousand years later, Rose had no intention of being rescued.

It was a few hours after Sam had found her, and they were sitting in what passed for the ship's cafeteria. There was a counter with dinner ladies dishing out platefuls of chips and meat, and rows of long tables and benches occupied by other residents that didn't spare the new arrival a passing glance. The low murmur of conversation mingled in the background, and it was accentuated with the clatter of knives and forks, and the constant background hum of the ships' engines.

Sam had spent the morning giving Rose a tour, showing her the more important aspects of his home. The food store was just a series of dark rooms stacked with crates of ready packed meals. The engine room was greasy, dark and noisy, and Rose got the fleeting impression of busyness and bustling workers and the clanking of gears and levers, before an engineer hastily shooed them out of the way. Sam shrugged and explained that civilians were only allowed there when running errands for the director.

Sam gave her the dorm room next door to his, the room that used to belong to Lisa. He tried not to show any emotion when he dropped the key into Rose's hand, but she could tell that he hated giving it up. It was almost a betrayal, of both his sister and the belief that he was alive, but there were no other empty rooms, except a few at the other end of the ship, so there was no choice. The room was very small; no more than a large box that held a narrow bed, a cubicle with a toilet and shower, and a wardrobe with clothes for Rose to change into. She had washed her face and hair in the cracked sink and pulled on the same white T-shirt, loose cotton trousers and heavy jacket as everyone else, noting that she and Lisa were the same size. Pulling her long blonde hair into a loose ponytail, Rose studied herself in the mirror inside the wardrobe door, thinking how limited and invariable the place was – more like a prison than the city it was trying to be – science and efficiency ruling over comfort and humanity. Even the food was uniform, she thought, as Sam brought two plates over, laden with pale, bland chips and a slab of grey meat the Rose supposed tasted a bit like beef. Taking an experimental mouthful, she realised she was famished and half of the plate rapidly disappeared.

As she ate, Rose studied herself once more in the shiny surface of the table. Her face blurred, she looked even more personality-less, like everyone she had seen so far – like a resident of the _Perseverance_.

"The _Perseverance_?" she repeated, thinking it was a strange name for a spaceship.

"That's right." Sam nodded, giving his lunch a half-hearted poke; there was something off-putting about watching Rose eat. "There were eight others made at the same time, they all have names like that. _Patience_, _Temperance_, _Ambition_…Anyway, my Mum and Dad signed up for the building work, and Lisa wanted to come and help in the science department, and I couldn't stay behind, not with them all out here…" he shrugged, making light of it. "So we were recruited in London and then all the ships were sent off to different parts of the solar system."

"You were all sent to places like this?" Rose shoved the last mouthful of chips into her mouth, and Sam blinked in surprise.

"Um, you hungry?"

"Starving," she grinned sheepishly, and then pointed with her fork at his own uneaten meal. "You going to eat that?"

"Go ahead." he pushed it towards her. Rose tucked in with gusto as he continued, "Anyway, yeah, that was the mission. Check out uninhabitable places like this and try to make them inhabitable. We got to Heather – that's the name of the planet: Heather – about five years ago, and we've been here ever since."

"I still don't get it, though. Sorry. Why's it so uninhabitable?"

"Well, there's the wreck of the old town, that all has to be cleared up, and new buildings have to be built. I think the whole place was hit with a nuclear bomb or something way back, and it destroyed the cities, ruined the atmosphere…so first on our list is purifying the air so we can get to work."

"Right," Rose said slowly. "And you can't do that because…?"

"There's something down there. We landed, and started work, but then this…thing must have latched on or connected somehow. All our power drained. We didn't notice at first, just thought it was a glitch in the computer; that's how it got so much so fast. But then, suddenly, we had too little even to move. We switched on the backup power, just to support us until the problem was sorted, but by then it was too late, we were sucked dry. Now we've got enough to keep us alive and airborne, but not much else."

"Sucked dry by what?"

"Well that's just it, nobody knows." he glanced around, as if checking nobody was listening in, and then leaned closer. "But I bet it's the thing that kidnapped Lisa and the others. It has to be. It immobilised the ship to get to the crew, and now it's picking us off one by one. It needs us for something."

"Sam…" Rose began, unsure how to say it. "Sam, how do you know that this…thing doesn't just want you all dead? How do you even know Lisa's even still alive?"

"I just know." Sam's jaw was set stubbornly. "I'd feel it if she was dead, I know I would."

"OK, works for me." Rose agreed. "I can't tell you how many times that's…" she trailed off, momentarily lost in the past. There had been times when she had thought the Doctor was dead…and times when she knew, just _knew_, that he wasn't. It wasn't logical, not something you could explain; it was just something you knew in your bones, in your heart.

Sam's hand on her arm brought her crashing back to reality.

"What about you?" he asked. "Don't you have family, back, you know, back home?"

"Well, yeah. You know, Mum, Dad, little brother…and Mickey and Sarah Jane – they work with me."

"And you're not worried, you know, that they'll wonder where you are?"

Rose was lost for words; not because she thought what he said was preposterous – it was just that from the moment she had arrived, she had not given them a moment's thought.

"Nah, they'll be fine," she said at last, "I can just go back five minutes after I left; they'll never even know I was gone."

"You sound like you do this a lot," Sam said. She could hear the half-joke in his voice.

"Yep," she replied, "So they should be used to it. I used to do stuff like this all the time, back when…" she stopped abruptly, her words hitting a little too close to the heart.

"Back when what?" Sam prodded, and then, noticing how pale his new friend had turned, "Are you OK?"

"No, it's nothing," said Rose quickly, and swallowed hard. "It's just…I had this friend, this…He was called the Doctor. I travelled with him, that's all." She was smiling, lost in a pair of twinkling brown eyes. "We had this ship, he called it the TARDIS, and it could go anywhere. Anywhere in the universe, all over time…" she trailed off again.

"Is he back in 2007 then?" Sam asked, to fill the silence.

"No, he's…far away. Worlds away." The smile slid from Rose's face as she toyed with her fork, stirring the food round and round. Then she added, almost too quiet to hear, "We had chips."

Sam didn't know quite what to say. He was debating whether or not to put an arm round her when Rose collected herself, cleared her throat and blinked hard. He couldn't help feeling relieved.

"So, what about you?" she asked, a bit too loudly to be casual. "What about your Mum and Dad?"

"Oh, yeah. They're here somewhere – on the Engineering levels probably. They spend most of their time at work now, I think to keep their minds off Lisa." his eyes dropped. "I tried that, keeping myself busy, but…well, Lisa got me the job at the lab, so even being there…it reminds me of her, you know?"

"Yeah," Rose answered softly. "Is that it, then, no other siblings? Girlfriend? Friends"

Sam shook his head. "I'm not exactly the sociable type," he admitted. "But I'll have Lisa, when we find her, and –" he stopped suddenly and stared, open mouthed, at something past Rose's shoulder.

"What? What's up?"

Sam didn't reply, so Rose twisted round in her seat to see the cause of his distress. It appeared to be the pretty black girl approaching their table, armed with nothing more threatening than a smile.

"Hi," she said. Rose smiled a greeting and kicked Sam under the table, as a gentle reminder that he was doing a passable impression of a goldfish.

"Hi, Cassie." Sam croaked. The girl began to walk off, but he called out, "I like your…nice, um top." He cringed.

"Thanks," she said uncertainly, glancing down at the top she was wearing; a plain white T-shirt, same as Rose and the rest of the community. "Well, see you around."

She walked off to join the lunch queue. Rose looked back at Sam, who slowly let his head drop onto the table.

"Friend of yours?"

"That was Cassie," came Sam's muffled voice.

"Oh."

"In case you hadn't noticed," he continued into the table, "I'm not so smooth around girls."

"You're OK with me."

"You don't count. You're not even a proper girl." He must have sensed her bristle, because he sat up straight so fast it was as if he'd been electrocuted. "I mean, you are a girl! Obviously! I mean, um – I – y-you –"

"I'm kidding!" Rose threw up her hands, just to put some distance between herself and this gibbering pile of useless human. She couldn't help but laugh at the expression of utter terror on his face. "Yeah, OK, I see what you mean."

Sam's head flopped into his hands.

"Aww, come on," Rose nudged. "Ask her out."

"No way."

"You obviously like her. You've got nothing else going for you; go on, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Rejection." Sam replied dully. "Total humiliation."

"So? You'll get over it." Rose, who had always leapt headlong before checking what she was jumping into, saw nothing wrong with that. "Nothing is ever as bad as it seems, trust me."

The expression on his face was something between self-pity and incredulity. "We're stuck on a spaceship, 100,000 light years from help, above a toxic wasteland full of God-knows-what, and bears that eat the stray passengers that actually survive." he said. "We're running out of food, fuel, and people keep mysteriously disappearing. Trust me; things can _always_ be as bad as they seem."

"You're running out of food?" Rose yelped. "But I've just eaten two portions of chips!"

"We're rationed. One meal each a day. They pack in enough nutrients to keep us going at least 12 hours."

"But I've just eaten your only meal of the day!"

"Relax, it doesn't matter, I don't want it. Besides, we're going to run out anyway, one extra mean won't make much of a difference." his voice, so animated when she first met him, had sunk into a depressed monotone. Rose hoped all her questions hadn't reminded him how hopeless the situation was.

"How long do you have?" she asked quietly.

"Ten years, give or take. Depends how long you stay, eating us out of house and home." A ghost of his earlier smile flickered at his lips.

"Ten years…well, that's well off." she said, trying to sound reassuring, knowing at once that time didn't work like that.

"I have a nephew, Rose. Lisa's son." His pale blue eyes met her dark brown ones, and they were filled with sadness. "In ten years, he'll still be too young to die."

Rose reached across the table and took his hand. "Then we'll make sure he doesn't." she said solemnly. "What's the next step?"

"Well…if we want to go down to Heather's surface, we have to ask permission."

"Fine, let's go."

"It's not that simple." he hesitated. "Any trip that isn't formally organised has to be cleared with the ship's captain. We have to go right to the top – to Director Steel." He looked nervous, but Rose wasn't. It was times like this that she felt the most in tune with the part of her that was the Doctor; felt she could do anything.

"All right." she grinned, "Take me to your leader."


	7. Chapter 7

**Doctor Who (c) BBC.**

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Chapter 7:

Their leader, Director Pandora Steel, was a tall, imposing black woman with short dark hair and strong, handsome features. Rose surreptitiously read her face as she and Sam entered the office, and was reminded of an old headteacher – hard and stern, but with a faint glimmer of kindness. She even looked as a headteacher would, perched behind the large desk in her large, empty office. There was a bookcase against one wall, a watercolour landscape hanging on another, a futuristic computer on her desk; but other than that, the room was as stark and impersonal as the rest of her ship. Rose felt fifteen years old again, sent to the head's office for punishment.

"Sit," Director Steel barked. Her tone was clipped, concise. She gestured at the two chairs facing her desk, and they sat, glancing nervously at one another. Rose noticed that Sam looked as apprehensive as she felt, and hoped her face wasn't that pale.

"So," Steel steepled her fingers beneath her chin, regarding them with cool grey eyes. "I'm told you want to go down to the surface."

_At least she doesn't beat around the bush_, thought Rose, relieved; small talk was the last thing they needed. One thing she had learned from the Doctor was that time is of the essence.

"That's right," she replied. Sam looked too scared to open his mouth, so it appeared she would have to do most of the talking.

"Why?"

"Well…" she didn't see much point in dishonestly. Steel might be able to help them, and after all, lying had never been one of Rose's strong points. "I think I can help you."

Steel's eyebrows shot up. "_Help_ me?"

"Help everyone," said Rose hesitantly. The eyebrows went up another notch, and she hurried to explain. "Sam thinks…we think, um, that something's behind these disappearances. We thought that if we went and had a look round, we might find something…"

Steel leaned back slowly, nodding – to herself, Rose assumed, because she didn't say anything. After a few moments, Rose was compelled to add, "And then I can help, because, well, it's what I do. It's my job. Sort of."

"Your job?" Steel was suddenly suspicious, hostile. "I don't recall allocating that job to anyone, let alone a teenaged girl."

"I'm twenty one –"

"And let me assure you, there is nothing…abnormal, nothing that needs investigating, on that planet, except the reason we came here in the first place!" Any possible leniency was gone now; all Sam could see was anger. "And certainly nothing _you_ can help with!"

"Is that a no, then?" Rose offered bravely.

"Yes, it's a no!" Steel retorted sharply, barely keeping her voice below a shout. "Now get out, both of you! Get _out_!"

Sam scrabbled for the door and tumbled out while Rose was still getting slowly to her feet. She crossed to the door, but, just before she opened it, turned and shot a look back at the Director. Steel was shocked by the calm fierceness of that look, at the eyes she was sure hadn't been that strange golden colour a moment ago. Surely she was imagining things? But by the time she blinked, the girl was gone.

Rose and Sam filed back out from Steel's waiting room into the corridor. Sam was still white and trembling, but Rose was shaking with anger.

"How dare she!" she hissed, eyes flaring. "How _dare_ she? Stupid old bat wouldn't ask for help if she was staring down a Dalek's eye-stalk…"

The experience had proved one thing, however. Whatever was going on, Steel knew about it. Rose was excellent at reading people, and the look in the Director's eyes when she had banished them from the room was one she knew well; not anger, but _fear_.

"But what can we do? What does that prove?" Sam asked when she told him. "What do we do now?"

Luckily, Rose was saved from answering a question she didn't know the answer to by the sudden appearance of Sam's friend Cassie, who sprinted down the corridor towards them and skidded to a halt.

"Can't stop!" Cassie exclaimed breathlessly, contradicting the fact that she had, in fact, stopped. "Gotta dash!" She suddenly grabbed Sam's hand in both of hers, and squeezed it encouragingly. "You hang in there! It's be OK, everything's gonna be OK!"

And then, before either of the others could reply, she was off. They stared after her as she pelted to the end of the passage and vanished from sight.

"Well," said Rose eventually, looking at Sam's wide eyes, "You don't have to look so sur –"

"Ask me for the time," he interrupted softly, without moving his lips.

"Er…what time is it?" she obliged, bemused. Sam held up his arm to show her his watch, and Rose saw, cupped in his palm, a scrap of paper with a message hastily scrawled on it.

_You are being watched. She has cameras everywhere. Meet me at the elevator in 10 minutes, don't tell anyone. And don't look round!_

_C xxx_

Rose looked back at Sam, heart beating fast. Secrets, espionage, cryptic messages; this was more like it. It was almost like being back with the Doctor.

Steel was about to forget about the visit and continue with her more important work, when she spotted something on the floor; a small rectangle of card, stark white against the charcoal carpet. Rose or the boy, whatever his name was – she could never be bothered with names – must have dropped it as they left, she assumed, as she bent to pick it up. Close up, she could see the slogan printed on it in bold black ink: _Bad Wolf Investigations_, and a telephone number, below an artist's drawing of a wolf with glowing yellow eyes. She looked back at the card, turned it over – and saw, in fine print on the back, three names: Sarah Jane Smith, Mickey Smith, and Rose Tyler.

The shock cut its way through Steel so suddenly she slumped back against the desk, quivering. The girl's gold eyes shone in her memory, holding her paralysed for a good few minutes, before she blinked and managed to come out of her trance. Flopping once more into her chair, Steel seized the phone and quickly punched in the number at the bottom of the card. A flat tone sounded in her ear: "Sorry, the number you have called is out of range."

Steel dropped the phone back into its cradle and sat back, staring blankly at the card. If the number were connected to one of the few phones on the ship, her phone would have found it. So where was this elusive company?

Steel turned to the computer monitor on her desk. It showed a view of the corridor outside her office. Rose Tyler and her friend were standing just below the camera, deep in conversation; then, as if sensing Steel's eyes upon them, the two trouble-makers turned and began to walk casually down the corridor. Almost too casually, thought Steel, who had an eye for such things and had been trained to spot anything out of the ordinary. Her hand reached for the phone and pressed a button on speed dial.

"Do you see what I see?" she asked; waited for a reply. Then, after a few minutes, "And who is the boy? I see. Then we have no choice. Proceed with Stage 2."

Another pause. Then: "I don't know who she is. What am I paying you for? …I don't care how you do it, just find out who she is. Find me Rose Tyler!"

She slammed the phone down and leaned back in her chair, breathing heavily and turning the girl's business card over and over in her fingers. Rose Tyler gave her a strange feeling; a feeling she wasn't used to, and didn't altogether care for. Because, as the girl had gazed at her with those fierce, tawny eyes, Steel had felt like prey.

A cold trickle of fear slid between her shoulders, and her hand clenched, crumpling the card into a ball. She tossed it into the bin without taking her eyes off the screen, where cameras were tracking the mysterious child's process through the ship. Steel had a sneaking suspicion she knew where she was going.

"Find them," she whispered to no-one in particular. "Find _her_."


	8. Chapter 8

Doctor Who (c) BBC.  
Sorry it took so long, I'm swallowed by College work all of a sudden.  
Mickey to the rescue! Again! He's saving the day in both my fan fictions now.  
Or is he? Because we all know it's not going to be that easy to break into Torchwood...

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Chapter 8:

The apartment Rose shared with Mickey was small and on the poor side of dingy. When Rose had moved out of the Tyler's mansion, it had been to gain independence; and Mickey had followed. Independence was easier with a shared income, but this was still the best they could afford on an Investigator's salary. Pete had offered money time and again, but as Rose kept saying, there wasn't much point in moving out if she was still living off her parents. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen slash dining room slash living room area. What little furniture they had was gathered in the latter; the bedrooms were barely big enough to hold a bed and wardrobe. It wasn't much, and it sometimes made Mickey wish they had never moved. He missed the en-suite bedroom he had, for a short time at least, made good use of – and thick carpets, and enough hot water. But, as Rose always said, everyone has to start somewhere. Why not a cheap flat in downtown London?

Mickey sat on the slightly damp sofa. He was staring at the TV, but it wasn't switched on, and he most likely wouldn't have noticed if it were. The plan turned over and over in his mind; he had been compiling it throughout the afternoon, and, now the moon had risen, he couldn't see any way it could be improved. It was way too risky for his liking, but he didn't have time to think of something better. There was no choice. He had to act now. He reached over and picked up the phone.

As Mickey steered his blue Mini Cooper towards his destination (he returned Sarah Jane's Figaro earlier that afternoon – parked it in front of her house but didn't have the guts to go inside) Mickey thought about what he was doing, and why. Why did he have to sort this himself, instead of waiting for Torchwood to do what they did best – clean up after themselves. He told himself it was because Torchwood was to blame in the first place; that he was the only one who could help; that Rose was his best friend and he owed it to her. But really, none of those reasons were true.

The truth was that he was in love with Rose. So totally, head-over-heels, crazy in love with her, that to not try and get her back would be like writing his own death sentence. When she had been with the Doctor every day without her, knowing that she was in constant danger, and getting further away all the time, had been torture – but this was so much worse. And there was always that niggling thought at the back of his head, that told him by figuring it out_himself_, saving her _by himself_, it just might make her forget what she had lost and realize what was right in front of her…

They shared a flat, but that was all. Mickey wanted more, but knew that she was too fragile, too close to breaking point; so, out of love, he never asked her.

As he turned a corner onto the main road, streetlights lighting up the street that was fringed with crowds, even at this time of night, a memory floated back to him, of a day not too long ago. He had gone into Rose's room for reasons he couldn't remember – he usually respected her privacy – but whatever; he had gone in. He was looking at her bed – unmade, just slept in, still smelling of her; maybe that was why he had gone in, just to be near the idea of her…And he had seen the photo, lying on her pillow.

It showed her and the Doctor (and that was a shock in itself – had he really been so tall? So…domineering, even in static form?), standing in front of a temple of sorts, bathed in the glow of the two red suns behind them. The way they stood, arms linked, grinning madly, how they had obviously asked a stranger to take the photo – a stranger who might well be an alien – was so clearly, ironically tourist-like it made Mickey smile, happy and sad at the same time.

The look on the pictured Rose's face had made him ache, because he never saw it these days. Sure, she was enthusiastic, even cheerful, but he had never seen the sheer joy and love of life that he had when she was with the Doctor.

He left the room, trudged back to the kitchen, and threw away the sandwich he was in the middle of making for lunch. Somehow he just didn't feel hungry any more.

Canary Wharf was silent, its windows black. Even so, Mickey switched off the Mini's headlights as he approached, and slowed to a crawl as he drifted into the company car park, silent as a ghost.

He pulled to a stop, and sat for a moment, resting his black glove-clad hands on the wheel. His jeans, coat and T-shirt were black too, and he was wearing heavy-duty boots instead of his usual scruffy trainers. It felt faintly ridiculous, a bit over the top, very CIA and People's Republic, but this was all part of the plan he had so carefully laid out.

He lifted his mobile from the pocket of his black coat, hit speed-dial and raised the phone to his ear.

"You ready?"

"Bring it on," replied Jake. His best friend's familiar accent helped Mickey stay grounded; he was in danger of floating off into fantasy, on a mission CIA-style. Jake had got a bit of stick for being a Geordie, back when he and Mickey had first started working for Torchwood; but nobody could dispute his strength and bravery, his sharp mind – and his open, friendly personality meant that no one could dislike him for long. Mickey regarded him as a true friend, someone he could really trust, and for that reason, he was the person Mickey had chosen to help. Right now, he was on the roof.

"I'm looking at the control panel right now. Hell, it's freezing up here." Jake pulled the collar of his jacket closer about his neck, trying not to think of the drop just a few feet behind him. He was angling a torch at the circuit box in the wall in front of him, and just above the box, the wall abruptly stopped and then sloped backwards to form one side of the building's distinctive, pyramid-shaped roof. Just behind him, the ledge ended in a lip above the eye-watering, stomach-churning drop.

"Why did I let you talk me into doing this?" he muttered, annoyed – but secretly slightly thrilled that Mickey had chosen him for the dangerous task. He spoke into the Bluetooth headset on his ear, leaving his hands free; one to hold the flashlight, the other to sort through the mass of wires in front of him.

"Come on man, you know I'm no good with heights," was Mickey's reply, tinny in his ear. "I really appreciate this."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Jake smiled grimly. "Just remember that _I_ still work here. It's my job on the line if we're caught…"

"We won't be." Was it the line, or did a trace of uncertainty creep into Mickey's voice. "We won't." he added with more resolve.

"If you say so…OK, I've found it. Disconnecting the audio and video leads now."

"Hurry up," Mickey urged. He had exited the car and was crouched in the bushes next to the front door, very aware of the security guard standing inside, just a few feet away. It was bitterly cold on the ground, and although he knew it would be worse a couple of hundred feet up, for a second Mickey was almost jealous of his friend. From where Jake was, he would be able to see London spread out below him like a picture postcard, all sparkling lights and with the dark stripe of the Thames splitting it down the middle. When they had lived with Jackie and Pete, Mickey would often climb up to the roof, never mind his less than stable head for heights, and stare out over his city, thinking how different it was, how similar…

"Sorry, what was that?" Jake had been saying something, and he had missed it.

"I said, get ready. Once I cut this wire we only have a few minutes to get to the room before they bring the system back online, and we don't want the security guards getting suspicious…"

"As far as they're concerned, it was a minor glitch in the system; no harm done." Mickey finished the sentence for him. "I know. It was my idea, remember?"

"Not likely to forget, am I?" Jake muttered, jamming the torch between his teeth and slipping a pair of wire cutters from his pocket with the resulting free hand. Holding the wires steady, he pinched one between its teeth – the wire that would cut CCTV footage to the whole building. Once it was broken, they would have less than five minutes before the nighttime security guards got the whole thing running on backup power. "Ready on three. One…"

"Two," supplemented Mickey.

"One!" they muttered together. The wire snapped audibly over Mickey's phone; he snapped it shut and elbowed his way through the door, hand ready in his other pocket, heading straight for the guard. The man turned – too slow – and Mickey shoved a small bottle under his nose. The man, twice the size as the young Londoner, crumpled innocently at Mickey's feet, and he wasted no time in dragging him behind the reception desk, huffing in exertion. Just in time, too – he had no sooner crouched under the table next to the prone guard than two more guards hurried past, walkie-talkies crackling, barking a warning.

"All right, I heard you the first time. Bloody amateurs." one of them muttered, and the other laughed, lifting the radio from his belt.

"Copy that, boss. On our way." He stuck the radio back and rolled his eyes at his partner. "All this for a technical glitch. I mean, it's not like anyone can get in. This place is like a stronghold. No way in or out."

_Except the front door,_ thought the Mickey, amazed at the officer's relaxed attitude. The guard looked no older than twenty, with short red hair that stuck straight up as if he'd touched a plug socket – but youth was no excuse for carelessness. The boy couldn't catch a cold, as Rose always said…Mickey realized he was quoting her again, and shut himself up. This was no time to get sentimental. He had a job to do.

He held on for a few precious seconds after the two men left, before ducking out of his hiding place and heading for the stairs. The lift would be too slow; too risky, too easy to be caught out. If everything had gone to plan, Jake would be on his way down, ready to meet Mickey in the room almost exactly halfway between them.

He took the stairs two at a time. After all, to put it in Rose's words, time was of the essence.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry it took so long; College work and Uni apps and all sorts of annoying crap got in the way! But anyway, here is the next chapter. Hope it's worth the wait...  
I'm trying to get this finished within the next...8 weeks, since that's when Rose officially returns, and I don't want it clashing or clouding my judgement or whatever. So expect the final chapters to be up quite soon.**

**Doctor Who (c) BBC.**

* * *

Chapter 9:

Sarah Jane Smith had grown used to being the odd one out. She alone had never met the Doctor, she didn't have experience with aliens beyond her short-lasting work with Torchwood, and, though they would never say it, she knew that Rose and Mickey and the others would never think of her as part of the family. Jake as well, maybe, but her more so, because they had known the other one, the real Sarah Jane, and in comparison, she would always be a disappointment.

Even so, she wasn't doing this as a way of proving herself, she told herself firmly as she stepped into the lift on the ground floor of Torchwood Tower. No, she was doing it for Rose.

She had never had a good relationship with her son. Matt was wilful and rebellious, and while Sarah had tried to be there for him, something always seemed to get in the way. The loss of his father had driven them closer out of sheer desperation, but there was always the fear that he would find out she was lying to him about that, too. And then the sudden appearance of a new job that she wouldn't – couldn't – tell him about looked ready to break the fragile bonds she had forged over the few months after her husband's supposed death in the fire that destroyed their house.

But there was another reason she had always unintentionally kept her distance from him – a reason that filled Sarah Jane with shame and guilt. It was the knowledge that, since the moment she knew she was pregnant, she had hoped for a girl. Oh, she loved Matt, of course she did, but ever since Rose had come into her life Sarah had found herself worrying for her, proud of her, despairing in her recklessness. She loved her like the daughter she never had. She couldn't just sit back and do nothing when there could be a chance to fix what had happened.

She acted the moment it got dark, assuming most of the people at Torchwood to have finished for the day. She flashed her old Torchwood ID at the guard on the door, thanking her lucky stars that she didn't recognise the large man, and hoping he didn't look too closely at the pass's date. She had a cover story ready, if he were to ask – she was following up some loose ends on a case, and needed some files from Pete's office – but the guard didn't seem interested in what she was doing. She was only one old woman; what could she possibly get up to? Besides, they had surveillance cameras on every floor…

The easy part was over; now came the hard part. She had to get into Pete's office and find the files she needed, without looking like she had no idea what she was looking for. It sounded simple in theory, but she knew there was no such thing as simple in a situation like this. Something was bound to go wrong, and she had to be fast on her feet to avert disaster.

She stepped out of the lift a few minutes later, hitched her bag higher on her shoulder, and entered Pete's office. There was a security camera on the wall next to the door, and Sarah Jane deliberately avoided looking at it as she crossed to one of the filing cabinets that lines the far wall. She began calmly flicking through its contents, forcing herself to act normal despite her thumping heart. Rose might thrive on this sort of danger, but it was definitely not one of Sarah Jane's strong points.

It didn't take her long to find what she was looking for. Pete was a very organized person, and the files were sorted both by date and then alphabetically. Sarah traced a finger down the relevant day's folders until she located the one marked "Tyler, Rose". Figuring she should start at the beginning. She pulled out another half dozen files that looked promising, shoved the lot into her handbag without opening them – she could do that once she was safe at home – and slowly slid the drawer shut, using the movement to mask a deep, shaky breath. The camera overhead gave a crackle, which made her jump – but no alarms sounded, no lights started flashing.

_Just a coincidence,_ she told herself. _Nothing to worry about._ Trying not to run, she hurried from the office, longing for the safety of her car.

She was back at the lift in a matter of seconds, and on the ground floor before she could blink. She didn't know if there was a camera in the lift, too, but stared straight ahead anyway, doing nothing to arouse the suspicion of anyone who might be watching. The guard who had been at the door had vanished; Sarah dropped the smile she had readied for him, vaguely wondering what had happened, but not really paying attention. Her mind was on the files tucked safely in her bag. It was only when she saw Mickey's unmistakable blue Mini in the car park that her mind began to whirl.

"Oh God. Mickey, what are you doing…?" muttered Sarah Jane, doing an about turn. She had a horrible idea of exactly what he was up to, and wasted no time in hurrying back inside the building. A few moments later she arrived at the room she was looking for.

The room looked exactly as it had the last time they had entered, with the glaring exception of the missing capsule. Sarah couldn't help staring at the place Rose had disappeared, before she realised what she was doing, shook herself, and began to look for a sign that her companion was there.

"Mickey?" she hissed. "Mickey, where –?" She stopped, suddenly, when the door swung shut behind her.

"Turn around. Hands in the air." The command was accompanied by the click of a gun's safety catch. Sarah didn't argue, and as she turned to face the guard, arms raised, two familiar figures were pushed out of the shadows either side of the door. Each of them had his arms pinned behind his back by a heavy-set guard; and a third man held the gun that was trained on Sarah Jane.

"Sorry," said Mickey. "Didn't really think it through."

"Yeah." Jake scowled up at the man holding his arms. "Sorry."

Sarah smiled sadly. "It's not me you need to apologize to..."

"That's right," said a voice from the darkness behind her. "It's not."

Sure enough, Pete pushed his way between them. Sarah didn't know if he'd slept, or even been home since what had happened the day before, but his eyes were steely, his face set hard. Sarah hadn't exactly been meaning him when she spoke of apologies, but he paid little attention to her anyway, staring instead at her two friends.

"You know breaking and entering is a criminal offence, let alone into such a high security building as Torchwood. Did you honestly think you wouldn't get caught?" He pointed at Jake. "You, for one, are lucky you're not going to lose your job."

Jake, who clearly thought that was what was going to happen, raised his head, eyes wide.

"Report to my office first thing tomorrow morning. Now go home." Pete told him. The boy didn't need telling twice. "You three can go too." This time he was addressing the three guards by the door. One by one, they filed out, until Sarah and Mickey were left alone with Rose's father.

"Pete, look –" began Sarah, but he turned to face, and his expression was so furious she found herself trailing into silence.

"No, you look," he hissed. "What the hell are you thinking, breaking into Torchwood? Did you honestly think you'd get away with it?"

"Well, I –" Mickey stepped in bravely, but Pete, somehow without moving his lips, said into his ear, "_Mickey!_"

"What?" he said abruptly, staring at Pete, who looked at him calmly. One eyelid flicked so subtly that Mickey wouldn't have believed it to be a wink had Pete's voice not continued straight away.

"I might be your boss but by no means am I in charge of this place. The real people who run Torchwood will –"

"_You're listening to a recorded message sent from my phone,_" said the voice, talking over Pete's speech. "_Now listen carefully, because there isn't much time. Right now I'm probably lecturing you, or have just sent you home after lecturing you, because I just know you're going to do something stupid and I'm going to catch you at it._" Mickey glanced at Pete in surprise, whose lips were moving; he couldn't hear the words over the voice in his earpiece. "_For God's sake, don't gawp at me or give any sign you can hear me_ –" Mickey quickly snapped his mouth shut and tried to look shamefaced, listening hard, "– _You never know who's watching in a place like this._

"_You're wondering what this is about, but I can't explain, not right now. Meet me at the manor in an hour after I let you go; tell Sarah to come as well. But you need to stop of at your office first; we need to figure out a way to see inside this place without anyone knowing...and you've probably got enough _stolen government property –" Mickey could hear his gritted teeth "– _to make a remote control."_

_I can do better than that,_ thought Mickey, surreptitiously slipping a hand into his pocket.

"_I have a plan,_" Pete's recording promised. "_I honestly do. But it'll take everything in my power to see it through, and I need your help. If you refuse...well, I guess that's the end of it. But I know you and Sarah Jane both love my daughter, so it's your duty to help. So thank you, and good luck."_


	10. Chapter 10

** Doctor Who (c) BBC.  
This is pretty much a filler chapter, since the exciting bit is just around the corner. Like, next few chapters. Oooh!  
Not far to go. It will be finished in 8 weeks, it will!**

* * *

Chapter 10:

Cassie glanced at her watch. It was past time she was meant to meet Sam and his friend, and she was still on the wrong side of the ship for what she needed to do. Quickening her pace, she hurried past identical doors for another five minutes until she reached the one she needed.

She checked the door first to make sure it was locked, then slid her ID card out of the plastic pocket clipped to her belt, and ran it through the scanner beside the door. Luckily, she was high enough up the pecking order for the door to buzz open without protest, and she opened it just enough to slip through the gap, silently closing it behind her.

Once inside, it was easy to find what she was looking for. Ignoring the patchwork of screens that covered two of the four walls, that showed every inch of the ship, Cassie applied herself to the single computer, whose blank eye supervised the rest of the room. She narrowed down the time window she was looking for, and a few minutes later, was watching Rose's arrival unfold on the screen in front of her.

Cassie, caught up in the full wonder of what she was seeing, paused as her finger hovered over the delete button. Rewinding the video, she gazed in shock as the capsule appeared – not fading in softly, but dragging itself into existence through sheer willpower, whipping up a spinning gale that consumed the rest of the room and then fell still as quickly as it had begun. The light that filled the screen was so bright she had to squint, and glowed gold against the video's black and white backdrop.

As a young woman stepped out of the machine and was discovered by Sam, Cassie paused the video. Her mind was whirling. She had met this girl less than an hour ago, in the canteen…

"What's going on, Sam?" she muttered. Then something on a different screen caught her eye; one of the security guards, instantly recognizable due to his clothes (charcoal grey instead of the pale blue of the rest of the citizens, Steel's black, or the green overalls worn by maintenance staff). He was heading her way. Quickly pocketing the video file for later use, she slipped out of the door and was gone before anyone knew she was there.

The Elevator turned out to be just that; a set of lift doors at one end of a long hall. Two racks running along each wall held stacks of futuristic guns and big, padded, blue-grey space suits with matching fish-bowl helmets. Halogen lights hung from the ceiling, giving the room a ghostly blue quality, and there was a chill in the air that Rose hadn't felt in the rest of the ship.

"It's one of the only rooms Steel hasn't installed with CCTV," Sam explained, as Rose curiously lifted a gun from one of the stands. "Cassie wants to talk to us without anyone else hearing..."

"Oh." Rose carefully slotted the heavy pistol back into place, not really listening. As his words hit she suddenly spun round with a look of alarm. "Hold on; if there's CCTV everywhere, won't someone have seen me arrive? They'll tell Steel..."

"Unlikely," Sam replied after a moment's thought. "We would have been stopped by now, if anyone was even watching at all. No-one checks the vids. It's not like just anyone can drop in."

"I did." Rose bit her lip.

"That was different," he told her firmly, "Don't worry."

Rose nodded, wishing she were as certain as he was, and, at the same time, that they didn't have to be so careful. It felt very strange to be creeping around, very unlike her usual way of doing things. If she were with the Doctor...

She stopped that train of thought right there, knowing exactly where it would take her.

"OK," she said instead. "What now?"

Sam was about to answer when there was a sound from the other end of the chamber; someone was opening the door. Sam and Rose waited with bated breath as the door swung shut again, and then the sound of approaching footsteps rang out.

"Come on!" he hissed, and pulled Rose back into the shadows by the Elevator doors. A few seconds later a figure came into view. It was Cassie; she approached them quickly, without looking back, and there was a sense of fear and excitement in the way she held herself, the way her fists clenched and her arms hung stiffly by her sides.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, and moved to greet her. After a moment's hesitation, Rose followed suit. The young black woman hurried up to them.

"Sorry I kept you waiting," she said, breathless with adrenaline and nerves. "Had to make a quick detour – to make sure I wasn't followed."

"That's OK." Sam looked relieved, as if surprised she had actually turned up. He shuffled awkwardly. "So what's going on? Has Steel said anything to you?"

It was Cassie's turn to look uncomfortable. "Not exactly..." she answered. "But there's definitely something not right about these disappearances. I mean, you don't go missing on a ship like this without someone doing something, but...it's like Steel just doesn't care. Like she hasn't noticed anything different..."

"But surely there's someone we can tell," Rose interrupted. "The police or...security or something..."

The other girl was shaking her head. "Everyone answers to Steel," she explained. "She's the highest authority here. We tell anyone what we suspect, they'll go running straight to her. We're on our own."

"All right, so what's the plan?" asked Sam nervously. "I mean, not to be pessimistic, but there doesn't seem to be much we can actually _do_..."

"Yes, there is," said Rose. "Of course there is. There's always a way out; someone can always do something. This time it just happens to be us."

Cassie glanced at the new girl in surprise, wondering just who she was exactly. She appeared to have fallen from the sky, or through a gap in time, and now she was taking charge. The rest of the ship were sleepwalking, doing nothing about their fears except worry and make them worse. But now here was someone fresh, someone who had the hope they all needed to figure out this mystery. And Cassie couldn't help liking Rose; not just because of her direct nature, her way of getting to the point, but also her willingness to help a group of doomed citizens on a ship that was going nowhere.

She took a deep breath and delivered the punchline.

"You have to go down there, and see for yourself what's going on."

"_What_?" Sam squeaked, then cleared his throat in an embarrassed way and repeated. "What?"

"It's the only way," Cassie continued. "We all know there's something going on, and it's not just up here, it can't be."

Rose was nodding, not exactly eagerly, but nodding. "That's right, that's what I've been saying. If you've got a problem then get to the root of it, no point in messing around."

"Exactly." Cassie grinned, and Rose grinned back. "So when you get down there –"

"Hold on." Sam interrupted. "What do you mean, us? Aren't you coming?"

"I can't. Someone has to be up here controlling things. Don't worry though; you'll have microphones, so I'll be able to hear you, and there are cameras in the helmets; I'll keep an eye on you from the observation room. Plus, I need to be here so people don't get suspicious. No offence, Sam, but you don't exactly stand out. Nobody's really going to notice. And no one's met Rose before, so there's no problem there."

"Well. No. But –" Sam seemed to be struggling to find words. "What if...something happens?"

"Sam." Cassie took his hand, causing the boy to make a small choking sound in the back of his throat. "You'll be fine. I promise."

But they all knew there was no way she could promise something like that. She avoided Sam's eye as she let go of him; turned and began the long walk back towards the door.

"Cassie," Rose called after her. "Thanks. For, you know, helping..."

Cassie turned slowly to face them, little more than a shadow in the darkness.

"Don't thank me, not yet," she replied, and then she was gone. Sam let out a long and shaky breath, before looking back at Rose. He lifted down one of the radiation suits and passed it over. It was bulky, and heavier than it looked. Neither of them said a word as they pulled the suits on; Sam because he was too afraid, Rose because she was filled with the familiar, heady thrill of fear and anticipation that was best had in silence. She pulled up the long zip on the front of her suit, slotted a microphone headset over her ears, and dropped the large, domed helmet over her head. Sam, already suited up, helped her buckle it in place, and attached the complicated array of wires that connected it to the oxygen tank on the back of the suit.

Then, breathing heavy in their ears, they stood in front of the Elevator doors.

"OK then," Sam muttered, reaching out to press the call button. His voice crackled inside her helmet, but Rose knew he was really talking to himself. The doors hummed open and they filed into the lift. It was larger than the lifts Rose knew – probably because people went down in teams of four or five – and there was a thick metal shaft in the centre, about the width of her palm, encased in clear plastic, the magnetic pole that restricted the lift's movement.

Rose couldn't tell if the Elevator used motion sensors, or if Cassie was controlling it externally, but the capsule needed no instruction to start moving. The doors slid closed, and the Elevator began its foreboding descent into the unknown.


	11. Chapter 11

**This was originally part of the following chapter; I didn't think it would get so long! Next part coming up shortly. :)  
Doctor Who (c) BBC.**

* * *

Chapter 11:

"Well," said Sam shakily as the Elevator ground to a halt fifteen minutes later. "This is it."

"You can still change your mind," Rose offered. "Go back up, stay with Cassie. I'll be OK on my own." It sounded hollow in her own ears.

"No." he shook his head firmly. "We're in this together. I'm not going back."

Sam smiled through his fear, and Rose grinned back, feeling sad and not quite knowing why. It wasn't until much later that she realised it was because he reminded her so much of the Doctor.

He led the way out of the Elevator, into the hungry darkness. Rose almost tripped as she stepped down, and gripped the side of the lift for support. Looking back at it, she couldn't believe that was what had brought them. Instead of a lift shaft like she was used to, there was just the magnetic metal pole, stretching about ten feet into the air and then fading out of sight in the shadow of the _Perseverance_. There was nothing else to support it at all.

"It's scary, the first time," Sam admitted. He motioned where she was looking. "The idea that there's nothing holding you up. But you get used to it, apparently. Lisa –"

He swallowed and couldn't go on. In the darkness, his pale face looked like a ghost peering out of the shadows.

"Got a torch?" Rose suggested. _Focus on the practicalities_, she told herself. _Don't think about what you're doing._

"Oh, yeah..." He reached up to her helmet and flicked a switch on the side, suddenly throwing a circle of light around them. His face came into sharp focus, the shadows under his eyes making him look even more ghostly. It was only a little better than before. But then he switched his own headlamp on and doubled the size of the ring, lighting his face more naturally.

They looked around where they stood, neither wanting to be the first to move off. From what Rose could see, the planet was in ruins; there were piles of rubble everywhere, no solid structures in sight.

"I thought you were rebuilding it?" she whispered.

"Not started yet," he reminded her. "We had to sort the air out first, and then this happened, so we never got a chance."

"Why's it so dark?" she shivered. She was stalling for time, and they both knew it.

"I suppose we're blocking the sun. It uses the same sun as Earth does, but it's further away, so we get less light and heat here, and once we realised we were blocking it it was too late to move. It's always night down here."

They cast their respective headlamps around a bit, scoping the place out, until there were no more excuses to stay.

"Come on," said Rose. "We'd better get moving." Even as she said it she felt the enormity of the task weighing her down. Where were they going to look? She hadn't expected the place to be so hopelessly, unflinchingly..._big_.

"Wait." At first she thought he had realised the same thing, and was getting cold feet, but he was fumbling for something at his belt, the thick gloves making him clumsy. Finally he got hold of what looked like a yo-yo, and unwound about out a foot of thin wire cord.

"What's that?"

"A lifeline." Sam knelt beside the Elevator and felt around until he found a large metal ring, half-buried under chunks of stone. He looped the cord around it and clipped it in place. "It'll lead out as we walk, so we can find our way back...hold on."

"What?" She crouched beside him. He was holding another wire in his fingers, one that had been there before them. Although tied onto the ring next to his, it was slack on the ground, as if whoever it belonged to had disconnected it from the other end.

"Lisa?" he murmured, heart in his throat. They turned simultaneously, and stared down the wire's path as it trailed into the darkness. Well, at least now they knew where to start.

Rose found her own yo-yo, and copied Sam's actions. He gave her quick instructions on how to use it; the two buttons, retract and release, and how to fix it if it jammed.

"In case we get separated," he explained, looking nauseous at the thought. "We can use it to meet back here. Come on..."

Lifelines threading behind them, they set of walking in the direction Lisa had taken, if it had indeed been her, and not another explorer. Sam cast a glance over his shoulder every few minutes, back at the Elevator, but it wasn't long before it was completely lost from sight.


	12. Chapter 12

** Two chapters in one day, how 'bout that? This was both fun and very stressful to write. Enjoy.  
Doctor Who (c) BBC.**

* * *

Chapter 12:

They kept going. Sam trained his eyes on his feet, avoiding the area not in the small circle of light that focused on Lisa's lifeline, but Rose cast her own headlamp all around, trying to get a picture of what the place looked like. As far as she could tell, it didn't much differ. Every so often she would spot something that suggested civilian life, like a section of brick wall or a chimney, but most of it was just lumps of masonry, unrecognisable from each other, that cast foreboding shapes and shadows until Rose's lamp picked them out. Try as they might, neither traveller could shake off the feeling that someone was watching them.

After walking for what felt like hours, the companions settled beside what looked like part of a church spire for a break. Sam produced a canteen of water from somewhere in one of his pockets, and digging around herself, Rose uncovered a couple of bars of chocolate – or whatever passed for chocolate. They tucked in hungrily, and awkwardly, taking off their gloves to hold the food and then worming their arms through the radiation suits so they could reach inside the helmets. Sam had forgotten he'd not had a proper meal for over a day, and raided his own pockets in the hope of more, but the previous owner of his suit had been more careful about emptying his pockets. Rose felt sorry and gave him the rest of her bar. He took it gratefully.

"So, Rose." Sam fixed her with an accusing eye that she was more than familiar with – it was the look her mum used to give her after she'd stayed out all night at a party. Sure enough, the next thing he said was, "Are you ever going to tell me where you came from?"

"Er, well..." she pretended to consider. "Probably not, no."

"You can't expect me to just trust you, no questions asked." he objected. "I mean, you did appear from nowhere, no explanations. If you're from 2007 then surely you wouldn't know about aliens? That's way too early in the 20th Century for first contact."

"For one thing, you _did_ trust me, no questions asked, when I turned up and offered to help. And for another...humans had been aware of aliens for years before the general public first met aliens. Never heard of UNIT? Or do they not exist either? I'm still getting my head around what this parallel world does and doesn't have."

"Parallel universe...?" Sam was gazing at her with new admiration, and Rose realised she'd let too much slip.

"Yeah, well. Just a figure of speech."

"Oh no you don't." He was only half-laughing.

"We should get moving. We don't want to be stuck down here too long." She tried to get to her feet, but Sam grabbed her by the wrist.

"Rose," he said, a touch of pleading in his voice. "Tell me, please."

She was about to refuse, once and for all, say that he wouldn't understand – but that wasn't true. And even if he didn't totally know what it felt like to fly beyond the stars, without the need for a home or even a home _time _to return to, then she knew he would trust her enough to truly, and completely, _believe_ her.

"All right," she said, pulling her arm free. She managed to get to her feet, though the bulky suit weighed her down, and began to pace back and forth in front of him, tangling up the lifeline. Sam stood up too, but stood at a distance, unsure what to do with himself.

"It's true what I told you," she said after a while. "I'm just a traveller, passing through. But I know about aliens because I used to travel with one. A man called the Doctor. He took me...everywhere."

"The Doctor?" Sam frowned. "I think I've heard of him. Does he work in Canary Wharf?"

"What?" Rose stopped in her tracks. "Canary Wharf? Torchwood's still around in the future?" She didn't know whether to be relieved or alarmed.

"Torchwood? No, it's just the name of the dock. You know, where the ship took off from."

An idea began to appear in Rose's head, but she couldn't quite grasp what it meant yet. She started to untangle herself from her lifeline so she wouldn't have to meet his eye.

"The Doctor and Rose," she muttered to herself, twisting the cord between her hands. "And then he left me, and now it's just Rose. Just me."

"Did you love him?" he asked. She nodded silently, eyes shut tight against threatening tears. "Did he love you?"

Rose nodded again; shook her head, shrugged. She looked so hopeless and alone that Sam he wanted to hug her, but he was too shy, so he settled for patting her shoulder awkwardly.

"I know how you feel," he offered. "When Lisa went missing I didn't know what to do, you know, I –"

"You don't understand," she said, suddenly defensive. "You don't know how it _feels_..."

All of a sudden their was an air of menace around her; her hands curled into fists, arms held tensely against her sides. Then she opened her eyes. Sam took a step back in alarm. Her eyes were crawling with gold light.

"Rose?" he whispered uncertainly. She looked at him, seeming to stare right through him. The light beaming from her eyes was so bright it made him squint.

"Don't tell me how I feel!" she hissed. She pointed at him, and it took a moment for him to realise there was something in her fist. She pointed the metal tube at him, and the tip was glowing to match her eyes.

"What...?" Sam was confused and scared. He wanted to run, but the light held him paralysed; he hung helpless in her gaze. "Rose, help!" He didn't know if he was calling for her or shouting to the darkness. All he knew was that it couldn't be his friend in there.

"You'll never know him, so you'll never know what it's like to be away from him. He's not just a man, he's a Time Lord. The last of the Time Lords. He's saved my life more times than I can count, and he's saved the world even more than that..."

"Why?" Sam was almost sobbing. "Who is he?"

He fell to his knees in front of her, but Rose didn't aim the weapon down; he realised she wasn't pointing it at him, but holding it in front of herself as protection against something in her mind, something he couldn't see. But she could. It was like a presence, a snarling beast trying to break into her mind. The Wolf.

"He's everything!" she shouted. White-hot tears coursed down her cheeks. "Looking at him is like looking at time itself. And being with him, it's the best feeling in the world, like you can do anything. He's the most important person in the Universe, but no one knows. And it's even worse here, because he doesn't even exist! I'm never going to see him again, don't you see!?"

She felt that by talking, she could hold back the beast, stop it from taking over. But finally she had to stop, to gasp for air and swallow the thick tears. The Wolf saw an opening and leapt. Rose felt it force its way into her mind, and tensed for the worst. Searing hot pain coursed through her, and she crumpled to the ground. She didn't feel Sam's hands on her arms, holding her up, she didn't feel anything. Her mind was full of light.

Then it was gone. The heat vanished, and in its place was blissful cool, spreading like a balm through her mind. Rose exhaled heavily and slumped against Sam, who caught her and held her as they knelt, alone in a halo of light amongst the darkness.

Finally Rose pushed herself away. She felt drained and weak, like she'd just run a mile. Sam peered into her face, searching her eyes for traces of gold, but he couldn't see any. The moment had passed, or so it seemed.

Rose could still feel the Bad Wolf, settled into a gap inside her she never knew existed, as if she'd found a soul for which she'd been searching for the past two years. It had waited patiently, waited until she was ready for it, and now she could feel the power it gave her beginning to trickle through her.

"Rose?" she noticed Sam was waiting for her to give a sign. "What was that? What happened?"

Rose shook her head, unable to speak. She had trouble getting to her feet, and he hurried to help, despite what he had just seen. From what he could work out, something had possessed her, some wandering spirit caught in the ruins.

"We'd better keep going," he said. "Unless you want to go back?"

"No." Rose shook her head firmly. "We're almost there."

"Almost where?" he looked round. There were no landmarks at all, and every bit of ground looked the same to him. "How can you tell?"

She didn't speak, just unfastened the glove on her right hand, then did the same for her left. Sam watched in confusion. Wasn't she worried about the radiation? He had heard it could strip your skin right off, and cried out as she let both gloves slide off and fall to the ground. But nothing happened, and Rose raised her right arm, palm up, to shoulder height. Sam watched in amazement as ribbons of gold light slid out of her sleeve and along the skin of her palm, conjoining at the fingertips to form a ball of gold light. Once this was the size of a small football, she let it go, and it slid away from them through the air, coming to a halt a few hundred feet away.

Then it exploded. A ball of gold light expanded, rushed towards them, and Sam threw an arm across his eyes as blinding light engulfed them. After a minute the shock faded and, squinting, was able to see to where the ball had stopped.

The light spread far, far further than their small torches had. Sam could see for at least a mile in every direction, and the landscape was bathed in soft golden light, not unlike sunlight. Much of the terrain was identical, made up of rocks and rubble. The only unexpected feature was the gaping crevasse directly below the star. It stretched almost right to them, stopping a few feet away from where the two friends stood.

"We're here," said Rose, sounding slightly stunned herself. And then, softer, "Look..."

Sam turned to see where she was pointing, and at first couldn't see anything; the glare bounced off the dry ground and into his eyes. Then, blinking, he saw it. Lying a couple of feet away was a small yo-yo-like contraption, the lifeline they had been following leading into it. Whatever happened now, they had reached the end of their search.

At first Sam was too shocked to say anything, then he licked his lips and croaked, "Lisa's down there?"

"Only one way to find out..." Together they walked to the edge of the hole and peered over. Even Rose's light didn't reach the bottom of the hole, and they could see the place where the light ended, looking no bigger than a coin. The walls were perfectly smooth.

"Now what?" Sam wondered out loud. Rose didn't have an answer, but he could almost sense her thinking hard. He took a step back and looked again at their surroundings. A few seconds later he heard Rose gasp behind him.

"Sam?" she said, and then, more urgently, "_Sam!_"

"What?" he hurried to stand beside her. She was leaning out over the chasm, and he did the same, but struggled to see anything new.

"There was a light. Wait...there!" Now he could see it too; a pinprick of blue light. Maybe someone coming to investigate the sudden blaze? He was about to suggest it to Rose, but another light appeared beside the first, and then two more. As they began to multiply quicker, Sam became nervous.

"Is it me or...are they getting closer?" murmured Rose. Then: "Get back!"

She grabbed Sam by the suit's back and hauled him backwards, throwing herself after him. Sam thumped to the ground beside her, teeth rattling in his head; head in his helmet. He heaved onto his elbows to stare at what had scared her, and almost screamed. What looked like a hundred tentacles were scrabbling at the air above the hole, clawing at the ground nearby. On the end of each one was a globe that glimmered with blue-white light. Sam nearly swallowed his tongue as the nearest one came within an inch of his boot; he snatched his leg out of reach.

"Come on," Rose was already on her feet, and he hauled himself after her. They scrambled away as fast as the suits would allow, searching for the end of Lisa's cord. Rose found it first and grabbed hold, began running back the way they'd come.

"Rose!" the sound of Sam's cry made her spin round. One of the tentacles had him by the neck, and though it was only touching his helmet, he couldn't move. His fingers scraped at it while his feet skidded on the rough ground. It was pulling him backwards.

"Hold on!" Dropping the lifeline, Rose threw herself towards him. Shoving her fingers under the rubbery, creeper-like tentacle, she tried to wrench it free, but it was as thick as her arm and stronger than it looked. Then another whipped around her arm and they were both trapped.

"Rose, help!" whimpered Sam, but whatever it was controlling the tentacles had focussed on them, and soon the whips were flicking thick and fast. One latched onto Rose's leg, while another two fastened round her waist. The one on Sam's helmet had been joined by another, blocking his view completely, while at least three more were clutching for his arms. Then one grabbed his legs and he fell hard. More tentacles latched on and began to pull him towards the chasm's hungry mouth.

"Sam!" Rose tore at her bindings, but felt herself being dragged after him. She stumbled and fell to one knee. Her strength was draining, and she tried to reach inside and find the Bad Wolf, but it pulled back to hover, just out of reach.

Sam reached the edge of the hole, hung there for a moment in time, and then, as if in slow motion, rolled over.

"NO!" Rose launched herself after him. The attacking vines were so surprised their grip slackened momentarily, and she managed to force an arm free and grip the edge, hauling herself over the ground. There was no sign of Sam, just a heaving mass of tentacles. Tears misted her eyes. "Sam..."

Even as she watched, the tentacles parted subtly, leaving a gap just wide enough for a slim human to fit through. The tentacles snaked over her, wrapping her tightly in a cocoon, pinning her arms to her sides. Helpless and limp, Rose let herself be pitched over the edge, and followed her lost friend into the darkness.


	13. Chapter 13

**I wrote this in a hurry while I was meant to be doing college work, so I apologize for the rubbish quality.  
Doctor Who (c) BBC.**

* * *

Chapter 13:

Jackie Tyler carried the tray, laden with cups of tea and biscuits, into the front room. Her husband, as well as Mickey and Sarah Jane, were sitting forward on the sofas, enthralled in the TV. Mickey had a Playstation controller in his hands, and was frantically punching buttons. But what they were doing had nothing to do with entertainment.

"We're inside the building," he announced suddenly as Jackie went to put the tray on the table, nudging Pete's laptop and a muddle of wires and circuit boards out of the way. Sarah slapped Mickey on the back, but Pete didn't speak, his lips pressed so tightly together they had almost disappeared. His eyes were fixed intently on the screen, and he didn't notice as Jackie settled on the seat beside him.

"Jack's asleep," she said brightly. "Should be out for hours, what with all the excitement." She was just trying to make conversation, but everyone waved at her to be quiet.

"Well, how are we doing?" she asked, sipping her own mug of tea. Nobody else had taken one. She tried to take in what was being shown on the screen. It looked like a worm's eye view of the Torchwood building, and the camera was tracking quickly across floors and round corners, as if mickey was controlling a tiny remote controlled car. Which was exactly what he was doing. When Pete had asked him to remotely-control the camera set-up so they could work their way through the building, he had had a better idea, and dropped his latest invention out of his pocket and into the shadows at the first opportunity he got. It was a tiny remote controlled car with an even smaller camera mounted on the roof, and was barely visible so long as he kept tight to the walls. It was this that he was deftly flitting round the corridors.

"OK then wonder-boy, how far to go?" Sarah asked. She tried to sound light to keep everyone's spirits up, but all four of them could feel what was at stake. This was their only chance to get Rose back, and if it didn't work...

"Not long," Mickey replied, breaking her train of thought. He peered hard through his glasses. "Just a couple more corridors..."

Yes, now that she looked closer, Sarah could recognize the area they were in. A few moment's later the camera squeezed through a gap that Mickey had purposefully left in the door, and they were in the capsule room that they had been thrown out of just two hours before.

"We're in. What now?" Mickey looked to Pete.

"See those controls by the wall?" instructed Pete, speaking for the first time. "Can you get onto the table?"

"Not really. I can zoom in..." Mickey fiddled with his modified games controller, and a control panel loomed in the screen. "That OK?"

"Perfect." Pete reached for his laptop and tapped a few commands into the keyboard. The others watched with interest as the control panel seemed to come alive, lights blinked and a few of the sliding switches became animated. Pete typed quickly, looking back at the screen to check he was doing it right. When he was satisfied,Pete made a few last changes and pressed Enter.

"Done."

"What?" Jackie was confused. "What did you do?"

"When the ship disappeared, it changed the status of everything in the room. Temperature, air density, oxygen-hydrogen ration, you name it. The entire room changed state. If I change it back, maybe that will reverse whatever happened to make the thing disappear..."

Mickey quickly scanned the camera around the room, looking for any sign of change. There was nothing. Pete sat back, deflated.

"What now?" said Jackie, voicing all of their concerns.

"I..." Pete didn't know what to say. Science had never been his strong point; he had only got the job with Torchwood due to his good business skills. He had never expected anything like this to happen. "I don't know." He typed something else, and then something else. Pointless streams of numbers flashed across the screen with no effect.

"For God's sake, Pete." Mickey suddenly burst out. "It's not working!"

He stood up. Sarah grabbed his hand, but he snatched it away. "Mickey -"

It was no good. He stormed out of the room, and a few minutes later they heard the front door slam. Sarah cast a worried glance at the Tylers, and hurried after him.

"They'll be back," Jackie assured the others. "This isn't the end; we're not going to give up."

"Why not?" Pete said bleakly. "There's nothing else we can do. It's over."

The hopeless look in his eyes shocked her. The Pete she knew wouldn't give up so easily, and though she knew this was technically the same man, she couldn't help but wish for the old Pete back. He would know what to do, he always had an answer. Her husband tried to put an arm round her, but Jackie shrugged it off. She knew he needed her to comfort him, but couldn't stand it. Rose wasn't dead, and they were not going to grieve her.

She left him sitting there, head in his hands, and climbed the stairs to the baby's room. Watching him always calmed her down, even when she was worrying about Rose or just missing her old life, before the Doctor had come like a whirlwind into their lives, and ruined everything.

She leaned over Jack's cot and scooped him into her arms. He woke up briefly and made a noise of complaint, but settled back down once he saw who it was. Jackie cradled his in her arms and buried her face in his soft hair, not wanting to look into his eyes, because they were Rose's.

"Jack," she whispered. "Promise you'll never leave, OK? Stay here with your old mum. I'll look after you..."

She stared with dry eyes out of the window. It was nearly midnight, but Jackie knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. Pete might have given up, but there was no doubt in her mind that Rose would come back. She had been through too much grief over her daughter for it to end like this. The only question was what to do now...

She didn't know how long she stood there thinking, but when she finally stole back downstairs, Jack snoring softly and drooling on her shoulder, it was dark downstairs and Pete was nowhere to be seen. Jackie trod as quietly as she could, heading for the living room. Just as she suspected, Pete had left the laptop awake on the table and the television on standby, just like she was always telling him off for. Maybe there was no such thing as a carbon footprint in this universe, but that was no excuse. Now, though, she was grateful for it.

She pulled the table nearer the sofa with one hand, then sat down and loaded up the same screen as before, absent-mindedly rocking Jack with the other arm. This was the only thing she could think of doing, but if it didn't work, she had faith that she would think of something else tomorrow, and the day after that, until she got it right.

She reached out to the keyboard, and typed two words.


	14. Chapter 14

**He Is Awake.  
Doctor Who (c) BBC.**

* * *

Chapter 14:

Rose awoke to pitch blackness. At first she thought she must be safe in bed, back at the apartment; but it was the wrong kind of darkness. There wasn't the glow of a street lamp through the curtains, or even the light under the door from one of Mickey's midnight excursions to the TV. The reality slowly sank in. She must have blacked out as the tentacles dragged her into their masses, after...

"Sam?" she whispered. The word echoed softly, telling her she was in a large room, although there was no way to be sure. Rose tried to move her arms, cautiously at first, and then with mounting panic when she realised she was paralysed. She could feel the thick tentacles trapping her completely, stopping at her neck, where they had somehow managed to pull off her helmet. Luckily, the toxins didn't seem to reach this far under the surface of the planet, or she would already be dead.

She gave up struggling, since it obviously wasn't having any effect, and tried instead to summon up some dredge of the Bad Wolf power she had felt so strongly before. It was no good; it seemed to come and go as it pleased, with no way of controlling it. It was like it had a mind of its own, almost as if it were a separate entity from her. And that gave her an idea. Instead of trying to reach the power on her own, she turned away, let it find her.

_Help_, she whispered. _Help._ It worked. She could feel the warmth growing closer, reacting to her need. As soon as it was within reach she grasped it, forced it out using her eyes as a portal. White light blazed in her vision, and the room lit up with a flash as a ball of sizzling light shot across the room and came to a halt in the centre.

She had been right; the room was large. The walls were circular, and looked like stone, but cut so smoothly it couldn't be natural. But it was the creature in the middle of the arena that caught her attention. Looking like a giant insect, it crouched in the centre like a spider in its web. It appeared to be asleep, its dozen bug eyes closed and black body rising and falling gently as it breathed. The vine-like appendages originated from the creature; they sprouted from its back, emerged in a mass that spread and fixed to the walls.

Strange bundles were wrapped at the end of each one and pinned, side by side, to the walls. It took Rose a minute to realize they were all people. People, too many to count, held like prey. Now that she looked more closely she could see the ominous blue-white bulbs at the end of each one casting eerie blue light across the multitude of faces staring at their captor. There looked to be too many for the creature itself to hold up, and Rose wondered if it ever moved, or just stayed, held in place, waiting for someone to discover its lair.

"Oh my God..." she murmured in horror, as everything suddenly clicked into place. The people missing from the ship, the monster – it added up. This alien – whether it had always been here or arrived from somewhere else – was responsible for the disappearances plaguing the _Perseverance_. What it wanted from them was unclear, but Rose could figure that much out with guesswork. Since it obviously had trouble moving, it had to get its sustenance somewhere – firstly, from the original occupiers of the planet, and then when there was nobody else left, from the planet itself. The area had fallen into despair; no inhabitants, no civilization, no air. It must have been almost wasted away when suddenly, out of nowhere, the ship had arrived. An all-you-can-eat buffet.

"Rose..." at first the whisper was so faint she thought she had imagined it, but then the owner of the voice cleared their throat and tried again. "Rose?"

With some difficulty, Rose twisted her head in search of the voice. It was coming from the person next to her. With no perceived effort, Rose intensified the amount of light, and his face came into view.

"Sam!" Rose felt herself go weak with relief. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, just about." he shuffled, realising, as she had, that they were trapped. "What's going on?"

She quickly filled him in on her theories, trying not to talk to loudly, as their voices echoed in the large hall and the alien might not be a heavy sleeper. Sam's expression changed throughout her retelling, from confusion to horror and then wide-eyed realisation.

"So this is what drained the ship's engines!" he exclaimed. "People only started disappearing after the _Perseverance_ ran out of power."

Rose nodded, glad her idea made more sense after discussing it. "Exactly. And if we don't get out of here, we're going to end up as plant food."

Sam went pale. "Food? You mean...Lisa..."

"Sam," Rose tried to meet his eye, which was difficult given the circumstances. "We don't know for sure that any of these people are dead. Now we'll get out of these things, and we'll find her, and we'll take her home...one way or the other."

Sam nodded, keeping himself together; there was no point falling to pieces now, after everything. He looked sidelong at her. "Well, any idea _how_ we get out?"

"Like this..." she enveloped herself in the Bad Wolf, felt it rush alongside her blood. Sam gasped at the change in her, in her eyes and the gold veins crawling along her cheeks. Then she reached out, regardless of the tentacles; her arm passed right through them to land on his head. And then – there was no other word to describe it – she dissolved. Sam saw her vanish, a split second before a warm tingle spread from the top of his head, and he followed.

When Sam came to his senses he was in the middle of the room. His knees, suddenly burdened with the weight of his body, gave way. Rose was there at once, supporting him.

"Steady," she said. "It takes a few times to get used to it."

"How do you know?" he gasped.

"I...I'm not sure. I remember it from somewhere." she sounded uncertain, for the first time since her transformation – whatever it was.

"Never mind." Sam said. He stood up straight, feeling shaky. He wasn't certain whether it was from the strange transportation, or whatever the spider-creature had done to him. "What now?"

"Come on." To his dismay, Rose was moving towards the creature. All Sam wanted to do was run, but the knowledge that Lisa had to be nearby made him stay. He scanned the nearest lit-up faces in vain, and began to work his way around the outside of the room, trying not to get any nearer to the monster in the centre.

Rose, meanwhile, edged closer to the creature, trying to get a feel for it or even a clue from the Wolf as to what it was, but it either didn't know, or was keeping it to itself. She thought it strange to go from being completely unaware of its presence, to accepting it as another part of herself; but it had been living inside her, unnoticed, for the past two years, and in a way she had always been aware of it.

She found the way to the alien's head, and peered up at it. It was much larger this close up, and loomed at least ten feet above her. Wiry legs as thick as her waist surrounded her like branches. Without thinking, she walked under the monster as if through a forest, and plunged into shadow.

"Rose?" Sam whispered, having turned round to find her gone. "Rose, where are you?"

He looked back at the woman he had found. She was high up, her face pale, sunken and ghoul-like in the mixture of blue and gold light – but he was sure it was Lisa. Or at least he prayed it was.

"Rose!" Sam tried one last time, but she was out of sight somewhere. He had to do it himself.

He reached up and grabbed a handful of tentacles, hoping the creature was still too out of it to notice. He was light and not exactly strong, but wiry enough to scale the wall quickly enough, and within moments was level with the woman. With Lisa.

"Lisa...?" Sam glanced back at the ground and pressed closer to the wall, tucking one arm around a bunch of tentacles. With the other arm, he reached out to his sister's face. It had been three weeks since she'd gone missing, and she looked horribly thin and cold. Her cheeks, eyes, lips, were sunken and grey, her skin as dry as paper. But she was alive.

Sam let out a gush of breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, resting his head against the bumpy mass covering the wall.

"Rose," he called softly to the room at large. "Rose, I've found her."

Sam forgot about the hundreds of other people hung on the wall, and the monster behind it all. All he could think about was getting his sister to safety – and since Rose wasn't around to do her disappearing trick, he would have to do it the old-fashioned way.

He reached out with his free hand, grunting with the effort of clinging on, and started to tug at the vines holding her up; with little effect, despite the creature's slumber. He decided to try a different approach.

The blue orb on the end of the tentacle rested on Lisa's chest, lighting up her face, and seemed to be what the alien was using to drain her power. Sam grabbed it and pulled. It came free, pulling the tentacle with it. He started to unwind Lisa's bonds, shifting his weight to the other arm to get a better grip.

Sam was so preoccupied that he didn't see the beast behind him open one eye.


	15. Chapter 15

**A-GRATH-or-an. Thanks to Roseanna for the name :P**

**Doctor Who (c) BBC.**

* * *

Chapter 15:

"Aaaaargh!" Sam screamed, as something fastened around his waist and yanked him backwards away from the wall. Legs dangling in mid-air, he clung on to the vine around his waist for dear life. The blinks of light holding the people lining the wall flashed past in a blur.

"Rose, help -" he was cut off mid-sentence as the creature jerked him to a halt and dumped him unceremoniously on his backside. Astounded that he had been freed at all, Sam scrambled to his feet. He was facing the wall; above him dangled the feet of some hapless prisoner. He stepped back, and was about to turn and look for Rose when a sharp pain stabbed into the back of his neck, sending a jolt of what felt like electricity down his spine. Sam crumpled to his knees.

With great effort, he fought against the spiky pain and swivelled on his knees to face his attacker. It was the spider-beast. All eight of its eyes were open, and fixed on him, glowing with blue light.

Then, lightning-fast, a tentacle rose from the back of the creature and flew at him. Not quick enough to dodge it, Sam tensed in readiness for the impact that didn't come. The whip stopped short, and hovered with the orb on the end of it level with his face. It seemed to Sam that it was another eye, staring at him. Then without warning, it drew back and spat a ribbon of blue electricity at him.

It hit Sam square in the chest, throwing his onto his back. Blue sparks scattered over his suit, swarming from the wave of energy that still clung to him. Arms and legs splayed, Sam shuddered in pain. He could feel his strength draining. The ghostly lights below the faces of people he recognized melted together to form a ring of blue, burning against his eyelids.

"Rose," he gasped, fighting to stay conscious. "Ro...Rose..."

And suddenly Rose was there. She hurled herself between Sam and the wave of energy, stumbling under the sudden shock, but staying upright.

"No," she growled. "You're not having anyone else."

The beam of light flowed into her, poured into her chest. Sam saw her stagger under the force of it, but instead of falling, she closed her eyes and stopped fighting. He watched in awe as the beam thinned to a trickle and finally stopped. Rose was panting heavily, beads of sweat standing out on her forehead, but she was still standing. The corner of her mouth twitched in a half-smile.

She opened her eyes, raising her hand towards the creature. A wave of gold fire shot from it, matching the brilliance in her eyes, and hit the monster in the stomach. It hissed, drawing back the offending tentacle. She hadn't hurt it much, but now it saw her as a threat.

Forgetting the boy in a heap on the ground, it focussed all of its attention on her. But before it could do anything another beam of gold energy hit it in the face, taking out three of its eyes. It flinched backwards, screaming and hissing in pain.

"Come on," said Rose. "I know you're intelligent, or you wouldn't have figured out how to capture all these people."

The monster didn't reply, except to hiss angrily, its many legs scuttling to keep the massive bulk upright.

"Or have you forgotten?" she suggested. "Such a long time in the dark, have you forgotten how to be whatever you are?"

Rose was angry now; she hurled a bolt of fire at the floor. The earth blistered and cracked, and the beast roared in fury and terror – it was afraid of her.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're not the only one, you know?" she sent another bolt at it; a tentacle whipped across to defend its face and disintegrated in a shower of dust. She stormed on, sending shot after shot at the creature. Tentacles flew in all directions, appearing and dissolving all at once. "We've all lost the light at some point; we're all living in the dark. Get over it. Tell me your name!"

"_Agrathoran_!" the beast moaned. Rose paused in her attack.

"What do you want?"

"Food," it groaned. "We are hungry; we are starving. Let us have our meal in peace."

"Us?"

"My children and I." The Agrathoran held out an arm to her, gently. The orb at the end pulsed with blue light. It was alive.

"Your children?" said Rose. "They're your children?"

"We are the only ones left," it – she – explained. "The last of our kind. All we asked for is food. Food to help my children grow, food to give me the strength to leave this wasted planet."

"Who did you ask?" asked Rose. "Who gave you this food?"

"The woman made of steel..."

"Steel?" Sam gasped from the floor. "I knew it...why would she...I don't believe it."

"So you ran out of food on the planet, saw the ship arrive," said Rose, working it out. "And you thought, hey, a free energy source. But the ship alone wasn't enough; you wanted the crew as well. So you struck a deal with the Captain: she'd let you eat the crew, and you...what? Let her escape?"

"My promise was to give some of my regained power back to the flying ship and help her and the survivors escape." the Agrathoran hissed. "Without me they are doomed to stay trapped here forever, but with my help not everyone will die."

"But they aren't dead," said Sam. He was on his feet now, holding onto the wall for support. "The people here, they're still alive. Lisa..."

"Not for long," Rose interrupted. "The children aren't as powerful but they're still feeding. Lisa and the others...they don't have much time left."

"But we have to stop it!" he gasped, appealing to the creature. "You can't do this. You say you're doing this for your family; well, these people have families too. We won't let you kill them all!"

"And how do you propose to stop me, little ones?"

It reared up on four of its eight legs as if to prove its point, several more of its children snaking from its back and wafting in the air. It didn't look impressive; just big, heavy and – now they could see it more clearly – thin and hungry. Rose noticed this.

"Look at you," she said. "These people, it's not enough to sustain you. The children are taking all the food for themselves. You're wasting away."

"Then we will find more." The Agrathoran dropped onto all of its feet. "There are still plenty of humans on board the flying ship."

"But not enough," said Rose. "Not ever enough. You'll have to keep eating and eating until there's nobody left. Not even Steel."

"So be it," the beast replied. "It is true; my race need much to sustain us. If this one ship will not be enough to sustain me, I will use what strength they give me to travel to other worlds, and find fresh food."

"No," said Rose. The Agrathoran blinked its big eyes, and then threw back its head and laughed as if that was the most preposterous thing it had ever heard.

"No?" it gasped finally. "Is that it? You're going to stop me with words, child?"

"I'm not a child," said Rose. "And you've seen what I can do. Words aren't my only weapon."

The Agrathoran ceased laughing. "Ah," it said. "But neither are they mine. You might have had the advantage of surprise before, but not now. Two humans against our combined might; you do not stand a chance!"

"We aren't just two humans," Rose prepared herself. Already she could feel the power flowing through her, from her heart to her head and back down her arms to rest, tingling, at her fingertips. Her eyes slowly lit up and grew brighter and brighter, until everything was laced with gold swirls.

"What are you?" hissed the Agrathoran.

"I am everything," she replied. "I am life and death; I am the light that casts the shadow; I was there before this Universe was created and when the time comes for another, I will be here to lay the foundations. I am the Time Vortex." She paused, remembering.

"I am the Bad Wolf."

She reached down and took Sam's hand. He could feel the energy radiating from it – like fire, like ice.

"Rose?" he asked. "What do I do?"

The eyes with which she looked at him were not familiar, but her smile was. And suddenly Sam knew what to do. He stretched out his other arm and found the person held to the wall beside him. One of their booted feet poked between the vines trapping them, and he rested a hand on it, feeling the warmth begin to flow; from Rose, to him, to the stranger.

He looked sideways and saw she was doing the same with the young man on her other side. He could just make out the thin gold traces sliding across her palms and disappearing inside the cuff of his trousers.

"What are you doing?" the Agrathoran murmured. "What are you _doing_...?"

"Ending this," said the Bad Wolf. "There comes a time when everything must die, and yours is long gone."

The gold light spread around the room, passing from person to person until they were all lit with the glow. Then, slowly, the light began to absorb into the tentacles holding each prisoner and creep along them towards the alien. The Agrathoran stared around at what was happening in horror.

"No!" too late, it guessed her plan. "Withdraw, my children – withdraw!"

Sam turned his head to look at Rose; saw the death in her eyes.

"Rose, no!" he shouted, "We can't kill it!" He was trying to wrench his hand free, but Rose held onto it like a vice. Sam could only watch, sickened, as the energy poured down into the Agrathoran, setting it ablaze. Its screams were deafening, even drowning out the roaring in his ears.

"It's the only way," whispered Rose above the noise. "It's a threat. It has to be stopped."

The gold blaze intensified until Sam had to close his eyes. The Agrathoran gave one final howl and then was cut off. The light faded.

The Agrathoran was gone.

Slowly – almost reluctantly – Rose let go of the Bad Wolf power, letting out a long breath she hadn't knowingly been holding. Sam opened his eyes and looked into hers; to his relief, they were dark brown again, but bleary and full of confusion.

"Sam...?" she murmured. "Did it work? Is it over?"

"Yes," he replied quietly. "It's over."

He pulled his hands free and turned away to hide the tears blurring his vision, but she had already seen.

"Sam," she said. "Oh, Sam."

He was too drained to fight her as she drew him into a hug made clumsy by their radiation suits.

"Why?" he whispered into her hair. "You didn't have to kill it."

"I did." Rose broke away from him and looked steadily into his eyes. "Some creatures can be helped, some can be set free; others can't. You heard it, Sam. It wasn't going to stop. Some things are just evil, believe me."

He did believe her – he couldn't help it. There was something about her that commanded complete honesty and trust. Sam nodded, blinking away fresh tears. Then something else occurred to him.

"Lisa!" he spun around and was met with a surprising sight. The tentacles holding each person against the wall had disappeared along with their owner, and instead the blue-white orbs were left, hanging in mid air in front of their prisoner. Except now they weren't holding the citizens captive, but holding them aloft, so that they floated in the air. And then, slowly, one by one, they began to drift towards the floor, landing lightly on their feet though their eyes were still closed.

As soon as Sam saw Lisa land, he ran to her and began to reach for the glowing orb, but Rose grabbed his wrist and steered him backwards.

"Wait," she murmured.

He waited. The round lights, the Agrathoran's children, waited until their charges were safely on the ground, and then, with a breath that spread through the room like a hundred tiny sighs, the lifted themselves into the air and hovered just out of reach. Waiting for instruction.

Sam looked at Rose in alarm to see what she would do; but she just watched them with a dreamy smile lighting her face.

"You're..." whispered Sam. "You're not going to..."

"They're just children," she said softly. "This isn't their fault, they didn't know any better. Look." She pointed up at the children, who buzzed uncertainly in the air. "They're confused. They've got nobody to look after them."

"Well..." Sam didn't want to implicate himself or anyone else without their permission, but he couldn't help feeling a certain responsibility for the children; after all, he had killed their parent. "I suppose...we can use them to fuel the ship...we might as well take them somewhere safe."

"Sam," Rose smiled at him, and he couldn't figure out why, until she said, "You really are something else."

That made him smile back, and the smile lingered on his lips as he went to greet his sister.


	16. Chapter 16

**Doctor Who (c) BBC. Not long to go now...**

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Chapter 16:

Rose stood in the corner, away from the others. A few hours had passed since they returned to the ship. It had taken a while to get everyone up in the Elevator, especially since none of them could remember what was going on. Once they were all assembled in what passed for the main hall, Sam had explained, straightforwardly and honestly, exactly what had happened. And everyone believed him.

She watched him now, across the room, as he danced with Cassie. Something had changed about him, she noticed as she watched him twirl his partner and laugh easily. Lisa was dancing nearby with her son, a lad of about eight who looked ecstatic to get his mother back. They were happy; everyone was so happy. And she had helped give them that happiness.

The noise was deafening; the sound of young people dancing, laughing, drinking, celebrating. Rose barely heard, her mind in another place entirely.

After getting cleaned up in, and borrowing a fresh set of overalls and T-shirt, she had confronted Steel. Sam tagged along, leaving Lisa to eat her weight in chips – or at least, that's what Rose would have done in her position. They found Steel in her office, hastily shoving her few possessions into a bag. She was unhooking the painting from the wall beside the now-empty bookcase, so they were able to slip inside without being seen. The sound of the door clicking shut made her jump in fear and swivel to face them.

"Going somewhere?" asked Rose softly. She watched in satisfaction as Steel's eyes darted this way and that, looking for another exit. But Rose was in front of the only door.

"I was only trying to help," she implored finally. "You have to believe me – I didn't want anyone to get hurt." Her eyes sought out Rose's, which were laced with gold – but Rose was entirely in control, and held the Wolf on a tight reign. A flick of the wrist, and Steel's chair shot out.

"Sit," she said. Steel sat.

"Yes, OK, I admit it" she gabbled. "I sold it the ship. But it was the only way – you understand, don't you? It was the only way."

"No it wasn't." Rose shook her head curtly. "There were loads of things you could have done. You took the easy way out."

"No..." Steel gasped, her eyes bulging in fear. Rose couldn't believe the effect she was having; then she remembered the cameras in their radiation suits. Steel was probably watching the whole thing from the safety of her office. How had they not thought of that before? Rose voiced the question.

"Yes, yes. I was watching..." she mumbled. "But you're wrong – I couldn't have done something like that...I don't have the power."

"Neither do I," said Sam from behind Rose. "But at least I _tried_."

Rose nodded. "He's right. You could have tried."

"Please..." Steel gasped. She stood up and leaned forward. Rose thought she was going to grab her, and stepped back, but Steel only held onto the desk for support. "You can't tell anyone. Do you know what they do to traitors in this situation?"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to turn you in." said Rose. "I don't do that."

"Oh, thank you, precious child, thank -"

"But you'll spend the journey back working with Sam's parents on the Engineering level," Rose interrupted. "And Sam will take over your post until you get back to Earth."

"What?" snapped Steel, at the same time as Sam said, with a great deal more force, "_What??_"

She turned to face him. "Who better?" she asked seriously. "People will look up to you, listen to you – after all, you did save all of their lives. You've got the videos to prove it."

"Well, yes but – I don't know the first thing about running a ship!"

"Why should that stop you?" asked Rose. "You didn't know anything about fighting evil aliens before; you do now. You have to stop reacting to things Sam, and start _living_."

"Besides," she added, looking at Steel. "From what I've seen it isn't a very challenging job."

Steel sank back into her seat, defeated, and Rose grinned despite herself.

Hours later, the grin had left her face. She stood with her arms folded across her chest watching the ship-mates dance, thinking about the way things change. A few years ago it would be the sort of place Rose would feel most at ease. But right now there was nowhere she less wanted to be. All she could concentrate on was how much she missed her family, and Mickey, and Sarah Jane; how much she wanted to go home. Because all this adventure stuff was nothing unless you had somewhere to go back to.

She was finally beginning to understand why the Doctor never stuck around to say goodbye.

No-one saw her slip away from the sharp, bright light and make her way into the shadows. Or so she thought. The storeroom was just as she had left it; piles and piles of squashed boxes, cabinets, old furniture, and cobwebs over everything. And then the time machine, solid and solitary in a corner of its own.

Rose stepped up close and laid a hand on the cold glass of the door. She could feel the power humming through her; it could tell what was about to happen. She had the same sort of feeling she used to have with the Doctor, only backwards; instead of the anticipated thrill of knowing a brave knew world was waiting just round the corner, the only place she was heading was somewhere that would never really be home.

And she would have to stay there. Forever.

Rose took a deep breath and slid the door open.

"Rose?" said a quiet voice behind her. It was Sam, looking small and pale in his black Captain's overalls, newly polished gold badge on his chest, showing the symbol of the working ship.

"Sam..." she couldn't think of what else to say.

"You're leaving." It wasn't really a question, but she nodded.

"I have to."

"Stay," he begged. "Stay with me."

"You know I can't."

All at once, they both felt time stretch between them – from 2007 right up until 12,000, and everything in between. The promise; the possibility. And Rose saw the same longing in her eyes that she felt every day. She knew what Sam was going to say next before he did.

"Then take me with you."

"No." She only whispered the word, but it was like she had screamed. Sam winced as if she'd slapped him.

"OK," he choked, turning to leave. She caught his arm.

"It's not that I don't want to."

"I know." He didn't look at her.

"I can't take you."

"Uh-huh."

"You belong here." She was desperate now. He needed to understand that she wasn't just being cruel; it sounded so clichéd, but it really was for his own good. "Your place is in your own time. I don't want you to go through what I did, but you will if you come with me."

He finally raised his eyes to hers. "You never told me what happened to you."

"Yeah. And now you'll never know." She smiled weakly.

He still looked miserable, and very young, so she put her hands on his shoulders. "Sam, listen to me." she said seriously. "Where I'm going, it's a one-way trip. I can't come back, and that means neither could you. You would never see them again. _Never_. Can't you understand that?"

"But...it's worth it, isn't it?" he murmured. "The things you've seen..."

"The things I've seen," said Rose, seeing the Doctor fade into nothing before her eyes, "No-one should ever have to see."

She paused, and then said truthfully, "But yes, it was worth it. I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

"Me neither," said Sam, and hugged her tightly. She felt his tears soak through the shoulder of her T-shirt.

"I'm going to miss you," he mumbled thickly.

A few minutes later she pulled away. Sam sniffed and wiped his face, trying to hide the tears, but Rose didn't bother; just smiled through them at her young companion.

"I'll miss you too," she said, and it was true. Then she turned away and stepped into the capsule. "You'll want to stand back," she grinned, reaching for the door.

"Wait!" Sam hurried from the room. Rose knew where he was going, and was half-tempted to leave there and then to save herself another goodbye, but she held on. Sure enough, when Sam returned he was dragging Lisa behind him. His nephew trailed behind.

"You'll want to watch this," he promised. Rose waved at them through the closed door, before setting to the task at hand. This time, she didn't need the sonic screwdriver. She doubted she'd ever need it again. She shut her eyes and concentrated. The Bad Wolf power sprang into grasp; it was getting easier every time. She felt her way around the ship, getting the feel of it, finding where to light the spark. They saw her eyes light up behind her eyelids, and at the same time, her hands tingled with gold sparks.

A wind whipped up, throwing her hair over her face. Sam furiously blinked fresh tears out of the way. He reached out to Rose, at the same time as she lifted a hand and pressed it against the glass door. Then, with a massive _WHUMPH_, the capsule blinked itself out of his time and was swallowed from sight.

The capsule hurtled through time. Rose felt the decades whiz past backwards, centuries imprint themselves on her eyelids as they rocketed past. She didn't dare open her eyes for fear of what she would see.

To navigate through the whole of eternity – past, present and future – is all but impossible to all but the most skilled traveller, and takes a vast amount of energy. The sort of energy that could easily rip vehicle and passenger apart and send them zigzagging to different ends of the Universe.

The portal was lost, spiralling down the same path from which it came. A human would have been torn apart – and the human part of Rose almost complied. Then the Bad Wolf, taking command with her life in danger, lunged for the same exit as the pod, and almost made it.

Rose hit the ground, hard.


	17. Chapter 17

**It's finally let me upload this. FINALLY. So here's the second-to-last chapter, hope you (all 6 of you) enjoyed it, it was a lot of fun and a lot of stress to write. Doctor Who (c) BBC.**

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Chapter 17:

"_Let go," the Doctor told her. "Rose, let go."_

"_How can I let go of this?" she had asked. The power was too strong; too sweet. She was intoxicated. The Doctor saw this, so he kissed her. Reached deep inside, found the power and ripped it out...but he hadn't found it all. A tiny spark remained, and that spark ignited and spread, growing ever stronger over the years until it threatened to consume her. This part of her, the part that thought and felt like the Wolf, was clever – so very clever. It knew she couldn't handle it as it was – raw, undiluted – so it approached her in dreams,illuminating the memories hidden in the dark, giving her the knowledge she needed to control it._

_And now, at last, she was ready._

Mickey walked. He didn't have a clue where he was going, and didn't care. Although it was dark, there were quite a few people about, and some of them gave him strange looks as he shuffled through their midst, hands deep in his jeans pockets and eyes fixed steadily on his trainers. He paid the glances no notice; pushed past and walked on.

His path took him through a building site – an old church was being torn down, and the area was surrounded by yellow tape and warning signs. Mickey ducked underneath the tape, skirting the iron fences held in place by concrete blocks. It turned out the signs were justified; the ground was littered with rubble and chunks of brick, and in the dim light, his foot caught one. Mickey stumbled, but steadied himself just in time. As he straightened up, his eyes settled on the brick, now in two pieces, and he absent-mindedly picked them up. After weighing them for a few seconds in his hands, Mickey dropped one into each pocket and moved on.

If anyone had been watching, they might have noticed his pace quicken slightly, his eyes behind the wire-rimmed glasses come a little more into focus. But there was no-one around to see, let alone pay attention to his mourning, broken shell.

Half an hour later, he reached the bridge.

Pete sat in his Torchwood office, staring at the computer screen on the desk in front of him. Numbers scrolled in front of his eyes as his hands worked furiously on the keyboard, tapping in codes and calculations. Nothing worked; even the most complicated equations were met with no result when thrown at the capsule that had stolen Rose.

He had left the house shortly after Mickey and Sarah Jane, vaguely meaning to drive around London and look for them. But instead he had found himself heading for Canary Wharf; not surprising really, as it was where he seemed to be spending all of his time lately. There was little hope in his mind that he would be able to do anything else, but he couldn't give up completely. He just couldn't.

He was trudging to the capsule room when his mobile rang. It was Sarah Jane. Pete glanced at his watch – it was almost three in the morning, and still dark.

"I thought you'd be in bed by now," he said wearily. "What's up?"

"Pete, where are you?" she asked. It sounded like she was outside somewhere; there was the occasional sound of a car roaring past in the background.

"Torchwood." he replied bluntly. He knew he sounded rude, but wasn't in the mood for one of her pep talks. It turned out that wasn't why she had called.

"Have you seen Mickey?" She sounded anxious. Pete reached the room he was looking for and went inside, heading for the control panel at the other side of the room. The large computer screen over the desk blinked optimistically as he turned every dial and pulled every lever to zero. Starting from scratch.

"No," he said. "Why?"

"I'm worried..." he could hear, or maybe sense Sarah run a hand through her thick, auburn hair. "I haven't heard from him since he ran off. Pete, I'm afraid he's going to do something stupid."

"What, Mickey?" he said sarcastically, then what she had said sank in. "Sarah, don't worry; he's a sensible lad, and Rose trusted him with her life."

"Yes, well, that's the problem. He must feel like he let her down; he'll probably be blaming himself." she was chewing her nails. "He's in love with her. Pete, what if he..." She couldn't finish.

Pete didn't reply for a long time, and Sarah began to wonder if he was still there. She shivered slightly, wrapped only in her leather jacket, and glanced up and down the empty road. Finally, Pete muttered something in her ear.

"What was that?"

"I said...never mind. Just thinking out loud."

"Pete..." her breath caught in her throat. "You're still trying, aren't you? You haven't given up?"

"Of course I haven't. There was just nothing I could do at home. I have to do it from here, and if they don't like it they can go to Hell."

By "they" she knew he meant the Senior members of Torchwood, who spent their days breathing down the necks of the heads of branches, including Pete Tyler.

"You could lose your job..."

"I don't care. She's my daughter, Sarah." In frustration, Pete kicked the wall of the control panel and decided it was time to go on the offensive. Starting at one end of the panel, Pete worked his way across, turning everything to maximum power. The room started to hum with electrical energy before he even reached halfway.

"Pete, what's happening?" Sarah's voice sounded disjointed, static crinkling across the line.

"I'm turning up the power," he said casually, without stopping. He could hear the phone crackling, and in front of him, the screen began to flicker. Sarah said something that was lost somewhere between them.

"I'm turning up the power," he repeated softly. "That's it. She's out there somewhere; I just have to find her. I just have to reach far enough. Turn everything up."

"PETE." Sarah said loudly. "Stop; think for a second. With the power Torchwood has at its disposal...a shock that strong could take out half of London!"

"I have to try," he said, and let the phone clatter to the floor so he didn't have to listen to her reply. He reached for the last switch and repeated, loud enough for her to hear: "She's my _daughter_!"

And he brought his hand down on the lever.

Sarah shoved her mobile into her pocket and started to run. She was a few streets from the Thames; when she got to the river's edge she gripped the railing, scanning the skyline for Canary Wharf's distinctive silhouette. The light of a certain window, halfway down, was flickering dramatically, and soon the whole building was flashing off and on like a Christmas tree. Other passers-by were stopping next to her to stare in the same direction.

"What's happening?" someone asked her, but Sarah ignored them. She reached for her phone, but spikes of electricity were sending it haywire; she couldn't see the screen for static.

Sarah swore, very uncharacteristically, as the symptoms spread from the Torchwood building across the adjoining skyline. Soon every building she could see were flashing erratically.

"This had better work, Pete!" she gasped, but the next sight stunned her into silence. A branch of lighting, seemingly drawn to Canary Wharf's point, lanced from the sky and struck the pyramid-shaped roof. Sarah Jane flinched backwards, but the explosion she was expecting never came. Instead, it was as if the building drank the electricity, using it as fuel.

Inside the building, Pete was thrown away from the table, hair and eyebrows singed. Electrical current swarmed across the panel in front of him, grappling with the levers. He had to shut his eyes against the brilliance, and scrambled for the door...

Sarah Jane could hear the familiar whine of Police cars. She was tempted to get herself to the scene, but the view was better from here; there was nothing she could do now except watch.

Then, suddenly, more lighting appeared – but there was something wrong. Sarah had to squint to be sure – it almost looked like it was coming _out_ of the building, branching into the night. The sky lit up with electric blue light; it looked like the world was tearing in half...

Pete burst from the front door and into the street. His eyes were burning, but he managed to pry them apart enough to see the flashing blue lights of a police car. A second later two of its occupants grabbed him and pulled him upright. The sirens were blaring in his ears, blocking the sound of their questions – was he hurt? Did he know what had happened?

Pete turned and tried to stare at the sky, looking for the lightning. There was no sign, and even the building's lights were calming down, everything returning to normal.

And then, without warning, another bolt lanced down the Thames, slamming into one of the bridges, calling the Bad Wolf down from the heavens.

Mickey took a step forwards. He was balanced on the stone parapet along the edge of the wide bridge. In the distance he could see the Tower of London, the London Eye, Big Ben...all the major tourist attractions. He was glad that night had closed in, and there was nobody else there to appreciate them. He didn't think he had the courage to pull this off if anyone tried to stop him.

Over to the side he could see Canary Wharf's lights blinking on and off, but paid it no attention. Whatever crazy experiment Torchwood was playing with people's lives, it was none of his business any more.

He shuffled further forwards, so the toes of his trainers poked over the edge of the platform. He had been a swimmer in his early teens, and it reminded him of gripping the edge of the diving board before letting gravity take hold. But where the calm blue of the pool had always calmed and refreshed him, the Thames, rushing black below him, offered exactly the opposite.

There was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't go through with it. He didn't think he was ready to die; but when he thought of his future, all he saw was a bleak, empty hole.

To give him extra pain, Mickey could not stop seeing her in his mind's eye: her dark blonde hair, chestnut eyes, quick, dazzling grin. He remembered holding her had and feeling the strange roughness; the thin, faint scars that she had got in the fire, that ran along her palm and reminded him that they were there, they would always be there. Telling him that Rose would always be damaged, not quite perfect.

So when he looked around one last time, it wasn't a last-ditch attempt to convince himself he was making a mistake, just a final look at the world that wasn't his.

And if he hadn't, he would never have seen the figure hurtling towards him along the bridge. It was her; it was Rose. She was lit from behind by a luminescent glow, like a guardian angel. At first he thought it was a hallucination, his muddled brain playing tricks; but his imagination wasn't that good.

"Mickey, no!" she screamed.

He didn't know what it was: the follow-through of an action already half begun; an involuntary jerk of surprise at seeing his love return from the dead; all he knew was that his grip shifted on the parapet – his foot slipped. He fell.

Rose saw it from a hundred yards away, as if in slow motion; saw him stumble, jerk, topple from the ledge, arms flailing desperately. She was too far away, but didn't stop running, though her legs had almost folded with terror. There was no way to stop it. She had saved a civilization by herself, and now she had to watch her best friend die, and there was nothing she could do.

_Yes there is_, a voice whispered inside her head, and Rose knew what to do. Power blossomed inside her.

Rose let the now-familiar warmth fold over her and felt herself drift apart; atoms pulled taut and sprang back together. From being a hundred yards away or more, she was suddenly inches. Rose threw out an arm and felt half-formed fingers close around someone's wrist.

Mickey opened his mouth to scream, preparing to plummet to his end. He felt like shouting – he'd changed his mind, he didn't want to die...but it was too late.

Then something grabbed his arm, jolting him still. He was safe in Rose's grip.

"Hold on," came the grunt from above. He craned his neck backwards and saw her leaning over the ledge, slowing eyes narrowed with the effort of keeping hold of his wrist. Mickey carefully twisted his hand, and gripped her arm so they were joined in a monkey-grip.

"Don't fight it," she warned.

"Fight wha-" he began, and then gasped as a strange sensation flooded through him. It felt as if all the molecules in his body were pulling away from one another. He had enough time to wonder why it didn't hurt, before something twanged inside him and he came together with a snap. He shook his head and blinked.

Mickey and Rose were standing on the walkway, still holding each others wrists. Mickey quickly let go.

"Rose?" he whispered, starting to reach out. She slapped him so fast he barely had time to blink.

"You stupid _idiot_!" she yelled. "You complete utter _moron_! What the _hell_ are you doing?"

Mickey barely heard her as he numbly put a hand to his stinging cheek, head ringing. He was still expecting to wake up. She was wearing strange clothes, her hair dishevelled and face make-up free. "Rose?" he said again, just to feel the word on his tongue, to tell himself it really was her.

"I'm real," she said, as if sensing his thoughts. "It's me, I'm here."

She was crying now, tears sliding down her face, making her look young and scared. Mickey put his hands on her face and used both thumbs to wipe away her tears.

"I thought I'd lost you," he said as an explanation, and it was enough.

"Come here," said Rose, and she put her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. For a second Mickey was too numb to respond, and stood solidly in her embrace, and then he wrapped his arms around her familiar shape and let the tears flow.

They stayed like that for a long time, and then Rose gently pulled away. She looked around, for the first time checking where she had come out, and it took a second to realize why the bridge was so familiar. There was the London Eye, and the rest of London's silhouette, laid out like a picture postcard. They were standing in the same spot she had stood in years ago with the Doctor – the first trip she ever took in the TARDIS. The beginning and end of everything.

"What?" said Mickey, seeing her face.

"How long have I been gone?"

Mickey shrugged slowly. "A day...two."

Her first thought was how much her disappearance had affected him in so short a time. Her second was on the time machine. She had figured it all out, but something was still bothering her – how had the thing got there in the first place?

Then, like a smack between the eyes, she knew the answer. She and the capsule had come back down different paths. Hers had been two days after her disappearance, and its had been two days _before_. She had put it in place for them to find, to travel back, to bring it forward...

Something must have showed on her face, because Mickey peered at her concernedly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She smiled, her face taking on a whole new light. God, how he'd missed her smile. "Come on."

"Where?"

"Home," she said. "I expect I've got a lot of catching up to do"

She took his hand and they ran, together, along Westminster Bridge.


	18. Epilogue

**I've been trying to work out why I'm not happy with this ending; why the story seems unfinished. And I think it's because it _isn't_. It needs a conclusion. An ending, a beginning. Something it could only get after I'd seen _Journey's End_, when I knew the whole story. So...here it is. It's not exactly what I wanted, but it's pretty close. Enjoy :)**

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Epilogue:

The stars were dying. One by one, as the world watched, the stars were going out.

No one knew why not even Torchwood. The others had eventually persuaded Pete to smuggle the confidential files out of the office (he was understandably worried about losing his job, since he had come so close before), but all they had discovered was that the leading alien intelligence government in the galaxy had no idea what the hell was going on.

The planet fell into a state of indefinite terror. With no way of knowing the reason, and no chance of fixing the problem, all they could do was watch as the lights in the sky blinked out of existence.

Torchwood began to build the Dimension Cannon in secret, soon after it became too dark outside to see, and too cold to go outside in less than coats and boots and scarves, bundled up as if it was winter and not July. The Cannon was a last-ditch idea, a defense against something too big for them to understand. Because they all knew that, at some point in the not-so-distant future, they would lose the sun.

They kept their plans quiet from the government, the media, even employees in the same building. Pete oversaw the project, because, despite his bosses concerns, he was still the head of Torchwood. He borrowed Rose Tyler, Mickey and Sarah Jane Smith, Jake Simmonds and two exceptional scientists who could keep a secret. And, because it affected her just as much as the others, he brought in Jackie as well.

It took many months of darkness for the eight of them to finish, and even when they did, and had checked and double-checked the calculations and made every possible adjustment, it still refused to function. Until it was ready.

Rose volunteered for being the first to go through.

I have to, she insisted, when her parents argued. This could be our only chance. What if it only works once? What if...

If it only works once you won't be able to get back, said Jackie. She hadn't been able to find a babysitter on such short notice and clutched the youngster to her like a lifeline. You'll never see us, or your brother, again.

I have to try. Rose swallowed. Or it's the end of everything.

But Rose, Pete cut in at a glance from his wife. Remember what happened last time you tried something like this? It sent you to the future...

That was years ago, she replied. I've changed since then.

It was true. She hadn't the need or want to use her new-found powers for over two years, and already the events on Heather seemed more like a shining dream than a piece of her past. In fact, they had fallen so into disuse, that when the stars began to go out she found herself unable to draw on the Bad Wolf. Which left only one thing they could do.

I'll find the Doctor. He'll sort it out and I'll come straight back. I promise. She was lying, and they all knew it, but they also knew there was no way to stop her. They agreed in the end.

They had chosen the name well: Dimension Cannon. It launched her from dimension to dimension with considerable recoil. She got sick the first time, but gradually grew more used to it, until she was able to step from one world to another with almost no ill-effect. She knew it couldn't be good for her humans weren't meant to go through that sort of thing but she had no choice. She had to find the Doctor.

And she did.

Later, she would lie on the roof and stare up at the sky, just looking at the stars. It hadn't been a shock to go back to the old world and see them still there, because she had known they would be. But it was strange to leave her new home in the dark, and come back to blinding light.

The Doctor came too, and lay beside her on the roof holding her hand. They stared up at the sky and thought it was the happiest either of them had ever been. She had almost forgotten he wasn't the real Doctor.

You can choose your own name, Rose said, a couple of days after they got back. If you want.

I've got a name.

But it's sort of second-hand. Don't you want a new one?

It's new to me, he said, and smiled a smile that made her melt.

Sometimes they lay for hours, gently dozing, or just looking at the stars. Rose would rest her head on the Doctor's chest and listen to the most wonderful sound in the world a single heart beating.

It wasn't the ending she wanted when she left to find the Doctor, but it was the best beginning she could have hoped for. And that was just as good.

THE END


End file.
